


Harry Potter - Independant Consultant and Jack of All Trades

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Endgame Drarry, Harry's a bit of a PI, It takes a while to get there, M/M, Off Page References To Harry and Draco with Others, Slow Build, The rating has been upped to explicit in chapter 12, The rating will go from Teen to Explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 106,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: Shortly after the Final Battle, Harry decides he doesn't want to be an Auror, and Kingsley suggests being an Independent Consultant instead. His very first case is looking for a missing muggle woman.





	1. The Case of the Missing Mother

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning now, I'm not intending this to be Sherlock Holmes level cases, so if they seem a bit simple to you, I'm sorry. I suck at writing crime fics, lol. That said, I do my best, lol :-)
> 
> Draco's not even in the first chapter, but that's because I'm setting up the plot. Rest assured he comes into the story in chapter two :-D

 

Harry raised a curious brow. “What?”

Kingsley gave him a fond smile. “I'm serious. If you truly don't want to be a part of the Ministry – neither an Auror nor one of my assistants – then at least let me send jobs your way from time to time.”

“But...” Harry frowned in dislike. “Wouldn't that still make me working for the Ministry?”

“Nope! It'll make you an Independent Consultant. A man who works for himself. You wouldn't be _obligated_ to take any jobs I send you, but you would probably want to,” Kingsley explained, still smiling.

“Er... how so?” Harry wondered, now half confused and half intrigued.

“First of all, are you _certain_ you don't want to be my right hand man? I would _love_ to have you as my assistant because I can trust you to give me a bollocking if I deserve it,” Kingsley said, chuckling softly.

Harry laughed because it was true, but shook his head. “No. If I worked for you, I may as well just give up any sort of hope for privacy and a life of my own.”

Kingsley sighed but nodded in understanding. “Alright, so what I mean will probably best be explained by this.” He slid a packet of paper over to Harry.

Harry picked it up curiously and read through it with increasing interest. The file was about a muggle boy who witnessed his mother be shot with a red light before two men grabbed her and disappeared within a cloud of black smoke. The summary indicated that muggle police felt the five year old was making up a “colorful” story to rationalize what he actually saw. With no real proof of anything, they had no choice but to close the case and declare the woman as having runaway of her own free accord.

Sadly, despite the fact that red light more than likely referred to a stunning spell, and black smoke probably described Apparation, there wasn't enough clear evidence to tie this to a specific wizard or wizards for the Aurors to investigate. It probably fell under the blanket of crimes committed by Voldemort, who was dead. Thus, the case would continue to go unsolved unless a private detective or other such interested person decided to look into it.

As Harry perused the written description of the boy – who had been five at the time of the disappearance a little over a year ago, with brown hair and brown eyes – he couldn't help but feel that this little boy deserved a chance to get his mother back. No matter _how small_ that chance might be. Honestly, what if that boy was Harry? Harry's mother had undoubtedly been murdered, but what if she hadn't? Wouldn't he deserve someone who cared enough to look for her?

“Why's he in an orphanage?” Harry asked, looking up at Kingsley.

“His mother never told anyone who his father was, so even if she knew, no one else did. Thus, he had no one to take him in after she was declared a runaway,” Kingsley answered with a grim expression.

“So... if I find her, she'd be able to take him home?” Harry wondered, thinking that _that_ seemed rather simplistic.

Kingsley winced a bit. “ _Well..._ maybe. That would depend on whether she's still alive and _capable_ of taking care of a child.”

Harry nodded and sat thinking in silence for a few dozen seconds. On the one hand, there really wasn't much to lose. If Harry found the missing mother, her son would be happy to have her back. Even if she was dead, the boy would at least know what had happened. On the other hand, if she'd been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse so much that she'd lost her mind, it might actually be kinder to let the boy believe that she was still missing.

Sighing, Harry frowned again. “So... how would this work? If I took this job, obviously the boy can't pay me, so does that mean I'd be working for free?”

“Are you actually concerned about money?” Kingsley asked with a brow raised in surprise.

“No!” Harry stated with a shake of his head. “It's just that you said I'd be doing this as a job, as in I'd get paid. I'm just not sure how that would work. I'd probably do it for free, but it just seems like I should get _something_ for my time and effort.”

Kingsley smiled, looking very much like he thought of Harry as his favorite son. “As I said, you'd be an Independent Consultant – licensed by the Ministry. As such, you can charge me whatever you like to take this case. Since it's your first case and you probably have no idea what would be fair to charge, may I suggest 20 Galleons plus reimbursement for all expenses. Indulge me in my curiosity a moment, but am I right in thinking that 20 Galleons is the equivalent of 100 muggle Pounds?”

Harry scrunched up his face in thought. “Erm... Actually it's a bit less than that, erm... 60 pence less? Ah whatever, close enough.”

With a nod of satisfaction, Kingsley continued. “Expenses would be things like if you have to travel, the hotel and any food you eat would be covered if you can provide receipts. If you need to buy anything – such as an official muggle police report, although I could probably have a copy brought in through official channels. Wait, is there one in there? I thought there was. If not, I'll make a note to obtain one.”

Harry had stopped looking through the file after reading that the boy was in an orphanage. He flipped the page and saw that yes, there was a copy of the muggle police report. He showed it to Kingsley.

“Good,” Kingsley stated with a nod. “Any questions?”

Harry scratched his head. “Erm, well, yeah. What if I track her down and find that she's being held captive by a Death Eater?”

Kingsley gave him a tight smile. “In that case, you can do one of several things. The easiest would probably be to just send a Patronus to me telling me exactly that so I can order a team of Aurors to go in and arrest the Death Eater. If you don't want to do that, or if he notices you before you can, you can certainly duel him – or her – and take him into custody yourself. As an Independent Consultant, you'll have the authority to do much the same as a muggle Private Detective or even an American style, erm, Bounty Hunter – I think is what they call it. We don't have that here in the exact way they do, but it's a person who hunts criminals. As such, you have the right to defend yourself and to use any means necessary to bring in a criminal. Conversely, you won't be bound by the laws that Aurors and other employees of the DMLE are. Meaning that you don't have to read the criminals their rights and you don't need warrants and the like to search a home. _That said_ , you very much could be charged with a crime if you break into a home in order to search for evidence, so try to keep in mind that it's a fine line and you'd do well to call me for help if you ever find yourself in a situation where you're not quite sure what the legal thing to do is.”

Kingsley took a breath. “I sincerely hope that it doesn't come to that. My gut tells me that this woman is alive and living in one of those places where muggles keep people they think have gone mad. After all, if she told _anyone_ that men with magic or strange powers did things to her, they'd think she was mad. Right?”

Harry heaved a sigh. “You're probably right about that. I just hate that muggles do that. Sir? I know that the Statute of Secrecy is important for our protection, but... Wouldn't it actually be better if we worked with the muggle government to make laws that protect us from muggles so that we can _eventually_ befriend them and minimize situations where muggleborns are considered mad or mistreated for being different?”

It was Kingsley's turn to sigh heavily. “That is a worthy goal, but I'm afraid that it would take far too much compromise on part of _both_ governments to be realistic any time soon. Still... I suppose I could meet with the Muggle Prime Minister and see what he thinks. Can't hurt to ask, right?”

“Exactly!” Harry exclaimed with a happy smile. “In any case, I suppose I should go figure out how to find this woman.”

“Good luck, my boy. And please, let me know if you need _anything_ ,” Kingsley said, standing up to shake Harry's hand and give him a quick hug.

“I will,” Harry promised as he returned the hug.

Five minutes later, he'd flooed home from Kingsley's private fireplace, and was sat in his favorite armchair rereading the file. It had a picture of the woman that was the most current at the time of her disappearance. There was also a surprisingly in depth description of how her looks had changed over the years, such as the fact that she liked to die her hair blonde, even though it had been her natural color of auburn in her picture. Her eyes were hazel, and she was tall for a woman at 170cm (~5'7”). She was also rather plump, but her shape was a rather pleasing hourglass. In fact, Harry could sort of see why a bloke with criminal intentions would be interested in her. She was very beautiful with lovely curves.

A cold chill ran down Harry's spine as this thought brought to mind a very different reason from Kingsley's as to why she'd been abducted. Well actually, he hadn't really specified a reason, Harry supposed, just a place where he thought she was likely to be. Now all Harry had to do was figure out how to find her.

The task was suddenly highly daunting. That said, he was certain that nothing was truly impossible with enough magic. Eventually, he went to bed to get a good night's sleep before beginning his quest for real in the morning.

 

***

 

After about an hour of mental debate, Harry finally decided that it would probably be easiest for him if he simply pulled on his invisibility cloak and snuck into the orphanage. His other option was posing as a prospective adoptive parent, but he doubted that he'd pass any sort of initial qualifications checklist in order to actually see the children. And after all, single men more than likely had a higher chance of potentially being pedophiles than women or couples.

Merlin and Godric! Sometimes Harry hated humans – muggles and wizards alike. With a sigh, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and pulled his cloak on. A few minutes later, he was looking around the orphanage for the boy in his photograph.

It took some time as the orphanage apparently housed a large amount of children, but finally, he was fairly certain he'd located the right boy. After waiting for the boy to go to and then eat his lunch, the boy quietly found a spot where he could read a book in relative peace. This turned out to be a small table and chair in a large room that appeared to be a dormitory for at least twenty children.

Harry forced himself to be patient until the boy was not paying attention to anything other than his book before pulling off his cloak and shoving it in his pocket. To his relief, the rest of the children had elected to go outside and play since it was Saturday and they didn't have school. Holding his hands up to reassure the boy that he intended no harm, Harry slowly approached him.

“Are you Rhys Wilkens?”

The boy looked up at Harry with a startled gasp. “Who're you?”

“My name's Harry Potter, and while I wasn't exactly a friend of your mum's, I heard about her disappearance and I wanted to check on you. See if you're alright.”

Rhys suddenly looked very suspicious and Harry couldn't exactly blame him. “Me mam ran away!”

“I'm very sorry to hear that,” Harry murmured soothingly. “Did she leave you anything? Of hers?” He supposed it'd be too much to hope for a lock of hair, but maybe a necklace?

Rhys pressed his lips together and remained silent, which was actually rather odd to see a six year old boy do. Then he sighed. Tilting his head side to side as if reluctant, he turned around and opened a box.

“The day before she... left... Me mam brought me to a park, and we made crowns out of daisies. I said that the crowns would die quickly and she said that was part of their charm. But then she gathered all the loose strands of her hair and made a braid that I could wear as a bracelet. It was a slightly loose fit at the time, but I've grown enough that it's really hard to put on, and I don't want to break it. I just don't understand... If she planned to run away, then _why_ did she take me to a park and play with me and give me a bracelet?” Rhys asked, his voice quivering.

“I, erm... I heard from a police friend of mine that you thought she'd been taken rather than run away,” Harry murmured as gently as possible.

Rhys sighed and impatiently wiped a tiny drop of a tear from his eye. “That was a fantasy my mind created to rationalize why me mam abandoned me.” The way he said this way _clearly_ memorized from others telling him this repeatedly.

“I think it's rather nice of your mind to give you a fantasy to believe. Either way, it's horrifying, but if she had been taken rather than leaving, you wouldn't have to always wonder why she left,” Harry said, feeling like a bastard for being unintentionally mean to such a nice little boy, but he needed to build up trust between them that was founded on the truth.

“Yeah...” Rhys whispered in agreement.

“Can you tell me more about your fantasy?” Harry asked, being as respectful as possible.

Rhys sighed. “There's not much to tell. We were carrying groceries home. It's about six blocks from the store to our flat... Two men, erm... made a cracking sound in an alley that caught our attention. Mam handed me the bag of groceries and pushed me behind her as she looked into the alley. She said something about someone being hurt, but then she saw the men and they looked... bad. She told me to run, which I did, but I looked back to make sure she was following me. I saw a red light and stopped running to hide behind a rubbish bin. The two men walked over to her, laughing and telling each other mean jokes about stupid mugs. Then one grabbed me mam and the next thing I saw they all disappeared in a stringy sort of cloud of black smoke.”

Harry nodded solemnly. It sounded very much like two wizards had abducted Rhys mother. He really wished he could extract the memory and see it for himself, but that was something he didn't want to do until he'd had a _lot_ more practice at such things since the chance of damaging the boy was far too high. Usually, a witch or wizard selected the memory they wanted to extract, and thus, no harm was done, but if a skilled Legilimens read a person's mind, they could do the same without harming the person. Harry was _not_ a skilled Legilimens and had no real intention of becoming one, despite realizing how handy it would be in this situation. That said, after he thought about it just a bit more, simply looking at the memory in Rhys head would probably be safer all around. In any case, it wasn't applicable.

Sighing morosely, Harry asked his next question. “What did you do after that?”

“I screamed and ran to see if she'd gone into the alley instead of disappearing. Then I kept screaming because I didn't know what else to do until a woman came over to check on me. She couldn't understand me at first because I couldn't stop screaming and calling out for me mam, so she phoned the police. I lose track of what's part of the fantasy and what's real after that,” Rhys explained.

“I see,” Harry said with a nod of understanding. “You want to know what I think?”

Rhys shrugged indifferently.

“ _I_ think you didn't imagine any of it,” Harry stated in a calming voice. “If you had imagined it, wouldn't there be some evidence to support the fact that she did a runner? Wouldn't she have finished bringing you home, fed you dinner, and put you to bed before leaving? Or, if she really did run off abruptly in the middle of the street for no reason, wouldn't she have simply told you to stand behind the rubbish bin as part of a game or something. Maybe had you close your eyes and count to ten so that she could pretend to find a place to hide before you went looking for her. I think that she loved you a lot and would have brought you to a friend's house at the very least if she was going to leave.”

Rhys looked down at his hands in his lap – which were holding the braided bracelet – to hide the fact that he was now silently crying.

Harry placed his hand on Rhys' head in an attempt to offer comfort.

“No one's ever believed me,” Rhys whispered, his voice full of emotion.

“I'm sorry,” Harry whispered in return since he had no idea what else to say. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up. “May I see your bracelet?”

It took a moment for Rhys to think this through and decide to trust Harry, but then he nodded and slowly held out his hand. Harry gently took the small braid of hair and treated it with infinite care. He knew it was important not just to him as a way to locate the missing woman, but to Rhys as the only thing he had left from his mother.

Holding up his right hand with the braid in his left, Harry purposely radiated calm. “I promise I will not hurt this bracelet, so may I have permission to wave my lucky stick at it?”

This took another long moment of thought before a slight nod of permission. Harry slowly withdrew his wand and pointed it at the braid. “Point me Siobhan Wilkens!”

This was a modification of Hermione's Four Point Spell, which was intended to make a wand act like a compass and point north. Which was useful when lost, but not so much when trying to find something in particular. So, when he was trying to recover his lost Firebolt and it was too far away to summon, she modified the spell for him and it led to his beloved broom. He sincerely hoped that it'd work now too.

To his relief, the braid started to glow for a moment before the light floated into his wand. Then his wand slipped out of his hand and spun around for a couple of seconds before floating over his hand in a sort of southernly direction. He handed the braid back.

“I hope this works,” he muttered before adding. “Thank you, Rhys. You've been a big help, and I hope I can help you in return.”

Unfortunately, loud chattering approached the dorm just then. Harry held his left pointer finger to his lips in a silent gesture asking Rhys to be quiet. Then he used the same hand to pull his cloak out of his pocket and swirl it over his head and body.

Rhys gasped in astonishment, his eyes wide as he looked all around the dorm for Harry. Harry knew he'd just broken the law, but A: Nobody believed Rhys anyway; and B: He truly felt his actions were necessary to solve the case. Kingsley _did_ say that Harry had the ability to do whatever it took to bring in the criminal, so Harry could claim he interpreted that to mean whatever it took to solve the case. He's pretty sure he'd get at least one pass on that provided that no adult muggles saw him following his glowing wand.

And now Harry had another problem. Once he was out of the orphanage, it just wasn't practical to walk in a straight line in the direction the wand was pointing. Not to mention, there was no telling how far he had to go. She could be three blocks over or she could be a half a world away. With that in mind, Harry summoned his Firebolt from his pouch and mounted it while still under his cloak. It wasn't a perfect solution as the wind could reveal glimpses of his feet and legs, but it was better than anything else he could think of.

Prepared to be flying for a while, Harry was surprised to see his wand dip significantly at the area below him while he was still in London. He lowered himself until he realized that he was directly above Diagon Alley. This made him frown.

What would a muggle woman be doing in the extremely well warded magical hub?

Normally, Harry would land and enter via the Leaky Cauldron, but since the dome-like wards above the Alley were designed to allow witches and wizards to fly in if necessary, he decided to do just that. Still following his wand, he pulled his cloak off once inside the wards. To his relief, his wand was actually leading him to Knockturn Alley.

No wait...

Harry landed in front of a shop that was located right at the corner – so to speak – where Diagon and Knockturn met up. The shop faced Diagon and was clearly meant to be part of the more respectable crowd.

Hmm... Was Siobhan secretly a witch?

Not having anything else to do, Harry put his broom away and followed his wand into the shop.

“Bless my soul! It's Harry Potter!” A matronly older woman exclaimed. She looked much like Harry always imagine his grandmother would look. Her hair was gray and surrounded her head in a sort of fluffy halo. She had vibrant blue eyes that seemed to sparkle, and she even wore an apron over her light blue dress.

Harry frowned as he wondered why she wore a dress as opposed to robes. There was no law against wearing muggle style clothes, and in fact a lot of witches and wizards – especially muggleborn and half bloods – wore muggle clothes in the summer time when robes could easily become hot and itchy. Still...

“Good afternoon, er...” he faltered when he realized that he didn't know her name.

“Cora Pearl Crouch, Mr. Potter, but you can call me Cora or grandmother – most people call me grandmother. I'm not entirely sure anyone remembers my name!” She exclaimed with a laugh. “But whatever you do, _never_ call me Ms. Crouch,” she added with a shudder of horror.

Harry returned her kindly smile. “Alright, Cora. I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a woman with auburn hair and hazel eyes about so high with a rather pleasant hourglass figure?”

Cora looked taken aback. “I wouldn't have twigged you for her type. You seem to like gingers, although she _does_ have a bit of ginger in her auburn locks. She's actually rather popular – goes by Seirēn. Did you want to meet with her for an hour? Or – since it's still rather early in the day – we're you looking to take her out for the evening?”

“Er...” Harry faltered since this sounded suspiciously like prostitution. Clearing his throat, he was dismayed to hear his voice quiver as he spoke. “Th-the eve-n-ning.”

Cora gave him a very grandmotherly smile. “This must be your first time hiring a companion. Fret not, she's a very gentle woman and a good choice for a first time. Can I ask, who recommended her to you?”

Harry blushed and scratched the back of his neck. “Erm... I promised I wouldn't say.”

“Ah. Good. That means you can be trusted,” she stated with a pleased grin. “If you just wait here a few minutes, I'll go see to it that Seirēn is ready to go as soon as possible. Would you prefer her to look sexy, innocent, posh, businesslike, housewifeish, or plain?”

Harry bit his lip in thought. What was most likely to be normal? Casual? “Erm... Plain, but still feminine. Cute, I suppose.” After he said that, he was tempted to smack himself. What sort of bastard was he that he specified a look for a woman he was supposedly hiring for the evening? Although, he needed Cora to think he was a serious customer, so it only made sense to play along.

Cora laughed. “I thought you were going to pick innocent. Alright, I'll have her ready as soon as possible. Please, have a seat. The elves will be more than happy to bring you refreshments while you wait. We just received a new shipment of Lapsang Souchong and my cinnamon ricotta danishes are famous.”

“Good to know,” he murmured as he looked around the medium sized tea shop and bakery. There were a couple of others sitting at tables, but Harry was fairly certain that the area was layered with spells so that conversations did not carry from one table to the next. He picked a small table where he could put his back to the wall and keep an eye on everything.

An elf did serve him an order of tea and danishes – he didn't even have to ask for them. Because he didn't want to end the location spell just yet, he switched his wand to his left hand so that he could use his right pointer finger to subtly – both wandlessly and nonverbally – cast a spell on the food and drink to ensure that it was free from tampering. He didn't think the woman would risk offending her patrons, but one could never be too sure – especially since fans often tried to slip him love potions and the like. To his relief, it was clean. And delicious!

A beautiful woman approached his table just as he was moaning over how good the danishes were. He blushed in embarrassment even as she smiled at him kindly. He gestured for her to sit down.

“Would you like some?” Harry offered.

“That depends, Mr. Potter, if you want me to save room for dinner,” she replied.

Harry took a good look at her. She was still just plump enough to give her lovely hourglass curves. Her hair had been died to give the natural variances in her auburn color more contrast and definition. Her makeup was done with a subtle hand, and she was wearing a simple summer dress in a pale shade of blue paired with a soft and fluffy white shrug. He had to secretly admit that if prostitution were legal and ethical, she'd be worth quite a bit of money.

“Mmm... I suppose that depends on what you want,” he answered since he didn't have any intentions like that.

She looked mildly surprised. “It's not often I'm allowed to choose. Well, if you're serious, I'd actually prefer to take a nice stroll around London, see a movie, and then if I'm not full on popcorn, maybe have a nice dinner.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Harry agreed, and honestly, it did. If this was a real date, that's probably exactly what he'd choose to do. He glanced down at his wand, which was definitely pointing at her – although she looked enough like her picture that he'd already decided that she had to be who he was looking for. He took another sip of his excellent tea, finishing it off. “I'd like a box for the rest of these.”

An elf promptly popped up right next to him holding a takeaway container perfect for the five danishes he hadn't eaten. The elf then magicked them into the box and handed it to Harry with a respectful bow. Harry nodded and thanked him. Or her. He wasn't entirely sure which it was. The elf responded by handing Harry a rather enormous bill for the evening, which Harry paid, thanking his lucky stars that he even _had_ that amount of money on him.

Seirēn stared sort of through the box with a faraway smile on her face. “I'm told there are creatures known as house elves that work here, but I can't see them. I _do_ see them carrying things around, and so, know they are there, but... there's something wrong with me so that I just can't see them.”

“That must be frustrating,” Harry murmured in sympathy. He stood and held out his hand to her. “Shall we be off?”

Seirēn slipped her hand in his and gave him an adoring smile. “Such a gentleman you are, Mr. Potter.”

“You can call me Harry,” he permitted as he escorted her out of the shop.

“Harry... I like it,” she purred softly.

Once they were out of the shop and a few feet beyond hearing range, Harry smiled at her. “And can I call you Siobhan Wilkens?”

She tilted her head curiously. “Who's that? You ex-girlfriend? Do I look like her?”

“I'd say so,” Harry said with a chuckle. He fished out and handed her the photograph. “See? She's you.”

“Wow! She really does look like she could be my twin!”

Harry frowned. “Do you honestly not remember?”

“Remember what?” Seirēn asked with a puzzled frown.

“That you're Siobhan Wilkens,” Harry said, still frowning.

She sighed indulgently. “Alright, I'll play along. Is there anything else about this woman I'm playing that I should know?”

“She has a little boy who misses her very much. She was abducted right in front of him about a year ago.”

“That so sad!” Seirēn burst out with a sheen of tears in her eyes. “ _Why_ would you want me to play such a character?! Do you have Dacryphilia?”

“Dacryphilia?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Obtaining pleasure from the sight of tears,” Seirēn clarified.

“Er... not that I know of,” Harry denied with a shake of his head. “I'm not asking you to pretend to be her, I'm saying that you _are_ her.”

Seirēn narrowed her eyes at him. “Ha ha, not funny. I was raised in a convent until I was sent to live with Grandmother Cora, and I've been a companion ever since. I don't have any children, and I find this roleplay fantasy of yours rather disturbing.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright. I have a different thing in mind.”

“What?”

“Let's go shopping,” Harry suggested with a grin.

Appeased, Seirēn gave him a tight smile and gestured for him to lead the way. Which he did by pulling her closer and Apparating her to the place he had in mind. She inhaled a gasp and covered her stomach with a hand.

“Every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of the men who visit me doing unbelievable things, but that was the strangest thing yet!” She blurted out.

Harry chuckled. “If you liked that, you'll love this.” He led her to the window of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. and introduced himself to the dummy.

“How do you plan to shop here? It's either condemned or being remodeled,” Seirēn objected with a frown.

Ignoring her, Harry dragged her through the wall. With wide eyes and feeling just a little discombobulated, Seirēn looked around as Harry led her to a plump woman behind a desk. The woman looked bored until she took a better look at Harry, and then she sat up rigidly straight and grinned at him.

“Welcome, Mr. Potter! I trust you're not in need of care...”

Harry smiled at her politely. “My friend here seems to have been the victim of a memory charm.”

“Oh! Spell damage, fourth floor. Thank you for visiting St. Mungo's and have a lovely day!”

Harry returned her wave as he led his companion to the indicated place. Another witch beckoned him closer, also grinning at him adoringly once she recognized him. He quickly explained the situation.

“Oh... Well, let me see...” she scanned Seirēn with her wand. “Yes, there does seem to be a memory charm in effect. Let's get her registered...” She scanned Seirēn with her wand some more as a chart filled itself in with all her details. “Name?”

“Seirēn.”

“Last name?”

“Er...” Seirēn trailed off with a frown.

Harry cast a spell on the chart to make a note that said: _her name is actually Siobhan Wilkens._

“Right! Seirēn, follow me please,” the Mediwitch ordered with a calming smile.

“Erm...” The poor muggle woman was so confused at this point that she didn't know what to do. The Mediwitch didn't allow for any sort of disobedience, herding Seirēn toward an examination room.

As Harry followed, he cast a Patronus, pausing outside the exam room to quietly tell it: “Tell Kingsley: I've found the muggle woman. She's alive and well and currently being treated by St. Mungo's for a memory charm. I think you're going to want an Auror or two to question her as I think something far bigger than either of us anticipated is happening.”

Rather than receive a reply Patronus, Kingsley simply sent orders for a team of Aurors to meet with Harry to discuss the case. But before they arrived, Harry spent a good half an hour holding Siobhan's hand as a Healer carefully located the exact parts of her mind that had been modified by the charm. As Harry had suspected, this was not a “simple” Obliviate, but rather a complex modification that rewrote enough of her memories that she believed she was who they said she was and cooperated with her abductors. Reversing the process was delicate and had a high risk of permanently damaging her brain if done wrong.

“There!” The healer cried in triumph. “I've found and ended the original charm, but my work is not done. This'll take several sessions over the course of weeks to be certain I do not damage her. That said, she _should_ at least remember her name and possibly –”

“I was abducted!” Siobhan blurted out in dismay.

“Oh dear,” Healer Rowe clucked in sympathy. “You poor thing. Can you tell me your name now?”

“Sei – ... Siobhan? Yes... My name is Siobhan... Wilkens...” She sounded more confused than ever.

“Lovely,” Rowe assured her. “Can you tell me what you remember?”

“Er... I was born to poor parents and raised in a convent before I was sent to live with my grandmother... but I was _also_ abducted by two men and...” she shook her head. “I don't know. They knocked me out somehow. A beam of red light? And then I was at Grandmother Cora's. I don't remember any thing else. At least, not what came before.”

“That'll return, in time,” Healer Rowe promised. “For now, I'm going to help you sleep so that your mind can process the sudden removal of the memory charm.”

Siobhan frowned, not liking the idea. “Alright...” she consented slowly.

Nodding, Rowe cast a sleeping spell. Unlike with dreamless sleep, the spell was intended to let the person sleep normally. She'd probably even have dreams of her real life – even if she didn't remember them when she woke up.

Harry met up with the pair of Aurors waiting outside the exam room, and filled them in with what he knew had happened so far. They exchanged looks and then swore. Harry was rather impressed by their creativity.

“We're going to have to organize a raid!”

“Merlin and Helga! I've had tea at that shop!”

“Those danishes are the best!”

“I know, right?!”

“They really are,” Harry agreed with a nod. “Want one?” He held up the box that he summoned from his pouch.

“Ooo!” They exclaimed in delight as they each selected one of the tasty treats. Harry decided to have one as well, and soon, they were chatting absently about their respective families as they ate. The taller one had an adorable sounding little girl, while the shorter one had a teenaged son who had just reached the moody broody stage. He entertained them with horror stories for a few minutes.

Then Harry got back to the point. “If you'll accept my help, I have an idea.”

They both shrugged. “As I understand it, you're working this case as a favor to the Minister for Magic himself,” the short one said. “That makes you a part of this if you want to be.”

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed with a grin. “Here's what I think we should do. One of you will Polyjuice into me, and _I'll_ Polyjuice into Siobhan, er, Seirēn. We'll return to Grandmother Cora after our 'date,' and I'll bluff my way through anything she asks me. Meanwhile, you and the rest of the Auror department – or however many participate in the raid – will gather around the place and do what you need to do. Once I confirm that the situation is what we think it is, your team can come in and perform the raid.”

“It's a good plan, but you're basically a civilian. I'm not certain the Minister would approve.”

Harry frowned. “Who better than me? I've spent the most time with her. I might have picked up on subtle things to help convince Cora Crouch that no one else will know.”

“Let us organize the raid first. We'll see what Robards has to say.”

With a sigh of defeat, Harry nodded. He then held up his hand in a silent gesture asking them to wait a moment. With a heavy heart, Harry checked on the slumbering muggle woman, stroking her long hair tenderly. It was thick and glamorous, even in her sleep.

“I hope you get better soon,” he murmured as he tucked a strand in his pouch. With a last comforting squeeze of her hand, he left the room.

Two hours later, many plans had been suggested and fought over until Robards himself surprised everyone by endorsing Harry's plan. When it came right down to it, the Head Auror felt that Harry was right. Despite only knowing her a few hours, no one else knew the woman like Harry did, and so, he probably was the best person to attempt impersonating her. It took another hour to finalize the details, but then Harry handed over a hair of his to the Auror who had won the right to be Harry for an hour in an impromptu lottery. The woman grinned as she watched the mud colored potion turn a shimmering gold. Harry sort of wished he knew what his essence tasted like, but considering that she gasped and shuddered upon drinking it – just like everyone else had in the past – he was fairly sure that it probably didn't taste as good as it looked.

Interestingly enough, when Harry added Siobhan's hair to the potion – after handing his glasses to his doppelganger – it turned a swirling variegated shade that resembled her hair. He took a large swig and was relieved to find that it didn't taste nearly as bad as he expected. Even so, he still gasped as his body felt like it was simultaneously lit on fire and crushed under a boulder.

When he was fully transformed, he looked at his smaller hands in awe. Despite this being his idea, he hadn't been quite fully prepared for his features to be so feminine. Knowing that he didn't have much time, he and his doppelganger got to work. They were in a bathroom and Robards had sent someone to duplicate Siobhan's clothes, so he had to strip off and give his clothes to Auror Burnside while she had to strip off and put them on. Lastly, he had to put on Siobhan's clothes.

While they worked, Auror Burnside smirked at him.

“What?” Harry asked defensively.

“Very nice package, Mr. Potter. I hope you'll forgive me for handling it. In fact, I need to figure out this works because I forgot to use the toilet before I drank the potion, and now I need to go.”

“Erm...” Harry blushed. “Christ! I forgot too.” He sighed. “Fine, but I'd better not read any torrid descriptions of my anatomy in the Prophet.”

“I assure you that I will be professional and keep my mouth shut.” Without another word, Auror Burnside disappeared into a stall.

Harry took the stall next to her since it was the only other one. “I just have to sit and let things happen, right?”

Auror Burnside chuckled. “Yes, exactly.” There was a moment of awkward silence as Harry waited for said things to happen.

Suddenly, there was a soft moan from the next stall. “Oh... that's lovely. _No wonder_ men like to play with these so much.”

“Er...” Harry droned, a bit mortified, before he shrugged and thought: _fuck it!_ His fingers had no trouble finding the spot that felt so good to touch. However, it was... different. Not quite as intense as Harry was used to. He unconsciously let out a very soft groan of: _hmm..._

“Since we don't have a lot of time, I suggest you cast Statim Gaudens on yourself,” Auror Burnside said.

Feeling like there wasn't much chance that she'd have him murder himself at this exact moment – considering all the other Aurors waiting for them outside the bathroom – Harry decided to give the unknown spell a try.

“Statim Gaudens!” He cast with oomph. Maybe a little too much oomph because he immediately started squealing as pleasure slammed into him with the force of a hurricane. “ _Holy fuck!!!_ ”

He could hear merciless laughter just before the spell was cast again, presumably on Auror Burnside – who then cried out erotically. The cry – in Harry's voice – did strange things to him, making him (still reeling from his extremely powerful orgasm) gasp in sudden lust and a shocking desire to be shagged into the wall. Or perhaps a shower? A bed at the very least. Shagging _needed_ to happen.

Unfortunately, it couldn't; there simply wasn't time for that.

Now shaking and gripping the bars on either side of him to remain upright – but no longer squealing – Harry panted and tried to catch his breath as he focused on accomplishing the task he'd actually come in here for. After a few moments, he was finished, and so was Auror Burnside, because she hummed happily as she flushed the toilet. Harry also heard muttered cleaning spells and sincerely did _not_ want to know – oh hell! There was no help for it, he knew.

Repairing his appearance, Harry wobbily got to his feet and unsteadily exited first the stall, and then the bathroom, Auror Burnside following right behind him. They _both_ blushed rather hotly when they realized that all the Aurors waiting for them were giving them funny looks.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled in embarrassment.

“I'm not!” Auror Burnside exclaimed with a cheeky grin, despite her still vivid blush.

Robards cleared his throat. “If we're all ready, we've got about 45 minutes before the potion wears off. That said, I've transfigured this ring into a ring flask – Potter – so if you need to take a bit more before calling for us to come in, you can.”

Harry took the ring with a nod, interested to see that it looked like a rather nice emerald cut ruby. He could feel the lever on the side to open the flask, but it wasn't visible at all. It even adjusted to fit his finger perfectly.

“Ready?” Auror Burnside asked, holding out her hand.

“Yes,” Harry confirmed taking her (his?) hand. “I'll Apparate us there. Remember, we've just had a nice romantic date, so we should act a bit happy and flirty.”

“I think I can do that,” Auror Burnside replied with a knowing smirk, which looked surprisingly sexy on Harry's face.

Rolling his eyes, Harry was extremely glad that he had to walk to the nearest Apparation point so that he could practice doing so, because his legs were still wobbily to begin with, but combined with the fact that he'd never worn heels before – short and sensible ones, but still! Anyway, it was an experience he was certain was going to break his neck. Auror Burnside cast a charm on his shoes that made them feel just a bit more comfortable, and also, managed to make it easier for him to keep his balance.

In relief, he felt decently competent by the time they arrived at the Apparation point. A moment later, he had them a little down the street from Grandma's Bakery and Tea Shop. They began their flirting just in case there were surveillance spells around the shop, giggling softly for no apparent reason.

Harry nearly opened the door for Auror Burnside before she stopped him by stepping in front of him and doing it before he could. It was one of those automatic things that he never really thought about, but could have potentially blown his cover before he'd even really started it. He gave her a grateful smile as he walked through the door.

“Did you have a good time?” Cora asked with a fond smile.

“We did,” they answered in unison.

Harry gave his partner a soft smile, which she returned. He seriously had to wonder if the charm that radiated off her was natural to him and he just hadn't realized it before, or if it was a quality she possessed. She even went so far as to bring his hand to her lips and kiss it.

“That's wonderful!” Cora exclaimed, honestly sounding like a grandmother who was hearing about her favorite grandchild's first date. “Would you like to stay for a bit longer, Mr. Potter? And will you be visiting again soon?”

Auror Burnside smiled at Harry adoringly. “I'd better not stay tonight, but yes, I'd like to return very soon.”

“Lovely!” Cora purred, holding her hand out to Harry. “Come, Seirēn my dear. Let's get you all tucked into bed.”

“Yes Grandmother,” Harry replied obediently. He put his hand in hers and let her lead him away with only a single glance back at Auror Burnside.

Once they were along, Cora's demeanor changed just a little. “Mr. Potter seems a bit, hmm... naïve perhaps. Tell me, did he actually shag you?”

Harry couldn't help but blush. “There was definitely sexual activity between us, but since it happened in a loo, it was more like mutual satisfaction.”

“Ah,” Cora stated in understanding. “I didn't think he'd take full advantage of what he'd paid for on the first time, and I was right. No matter. He had fun and plans to return soon. That's all that matters.” She stopped and patted Harry on the face. “Congratulations, dearie. You've managed to interest arguably the most important man in the world. Back in my day, I was courtesan to all the Princes of Europe – as you know. I had looks, and you have them too. Just continue to be your sweet and lovable self, and you'll have Harry Potter as your loyal patron for years to come. Did he feed you?”

“We became distracted and forgot all about eating,” Harry replied, deciding that it might be safest if he didn't claim to do to many things that hadn't happened. Less to keep track of if necessary.

“I can imagine. I suppose I can order some dinner for you to eat before you go to bed. It's been a slow night so far, so only a couple of girls are awake and flirting with customers – but I'd be surprised if you noticed them with all your attention focused on the charming Mr. Potter.”

“I didn't,” Harry admitted a bit sheepishly.

“Wait here one moment while I wake your sister Florence,” Cora bade, literally pointing to the floor where Harry was standing. “And remember, I know it's alarming to see your sisters appear almost dead in their slumber, but they're simply asleep. I know you don't really remember anything from your own slumber, but surely it can't be too hard to understand that no harm comes to you in this house.”

Harry tilted his head curiously since this sounded... odd...

Taking this as a normal response, Cora simply nodded and turned to open a door. Harry could see several woman laying in beds in the shockingly tiny room. There was almost not enough space for Cora to walk between the beds. She murmured something that Harry vaguely recognized as one of the ways to end Bewitched Sleep – the same sleep that Ron and Hermione had been put under when they floated in the Black Lake during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione had told him all about it later on. It was a sleep so deep that the sleeper didn't breathe. Nor did they age. They were in stasis, able to remain so forever if necessary. This was how Salazar Slytherin's basilisk was able to stay in the Chamber of Secrets for as long as it took for his Heir to find it.

That thought made a shiver of horror run up Harry's spine.

Surprisingly quickly, Florence was awake and ready to go. Cora was apparently a master at transfiguration, able to change Florence's nightgown to a simple dress that flattered her figure in mere seconds. Florence was taller than Harry – er, Seirēn – and also thinner, but she still had rather plump breasts. Actually, Harry had to wonder if they'd been spelled bigger or something because they didn't quite look right on her body.

“Florence, one of your regulars arrived a few minutes ago. Please go greet him and serve him tea,” Cora ordered even though it sounded like a suggestion.

“Yes Grandmother,” Florence murmured with a soft smile. “I look forward to it.”

“Good. Come Seirēn.”

Harry followed Cora to a small room containing nothing but a table and a tub. A house elf popped in with a tray containing a simple chicken and dumpling stew, a glass of water, and a cup of tea. Cora kissed Harry on the cheek.

“There, a nice meal and a lovely bath. Once you're done, the elf – that I _know_ you can't see, dearie – will let me know and I'll return to bring you to bed.”

“Yes Grandmother,” Harry murmured obediently, intuitively knowing that it was what was expected of him. He sat down since Cora was watching him expectantly.

“What do you say, dearie?”

Thankfully, it was easy enough to parse that Harry didn't have to panic. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You're welcome dearie,” Cora responded with a pleased smile before leaving the room.

Harry surreptitiously removed his wand from a holster on his thigh and pointed it at the elf under the table. Much better at nonverbal spells than he was in Sixth Year, he didn't make a sound as he cast a Petrificus Totalus on the elf. He wasn't entirely certain that it would work – elf magic being different than wizard magic – but it did. The elf seized up and fell to the floor. Unlike a stunning spell, he or she would still be able to see and hear, but also unlike a stunning spell, it would not wear off before someone specifically ended it. Thus, Harry would be safe from the elf waking up at an inopportune moment and warning his mistress.

Next, Harry cast a Patronus. “Tell Robards: It's as we suspected. Possibly worse. There's at least one room full of women being kept in Bewitched Sleep. Cora said there were a couple of girls awake and flirting with patrons in the Bakery, so there must be patrons there. I'm currently safe and expect to remain so for the foreseeable future. I haven't taken another sip, and unless something drastic happens in the next few minutes, I don't plan to.”

This was all the information Robards needed to make an official raid on the business. Plus, he wouldn't have to worry about Harry getting caught up in the crossfire. It was more important to Harry to keep an eye out the door to make sure nothing happened to the women before they were rescued.

The silvery stag nodded his head in understanding and ran off to deliver the message. Since Harry had nothing better to do as he waited, he cast a detection spell over the food, and finding it clean, ate a bit. It was very tasty, making Harry feel that Cora did seem to care for her girls, despite using them rather atrociously.

Two men popped into the room unexpectedly. Since they weren't Aurors, they must have made it in _just_ before the Anti-Apparation wards went up. Harry gasped in surprise, infinitely glad that his wand was still in his lap.

“Calm down love,” the fit blond stated soothingly. “It's just us. We brought a new sister for you, see?”

Harry nearly gasped again when he realized that the taller and even more fit man had a woman slung over his shoulder. “Is she alright?”

“Yes. She just hadn't ever been out of the convent before and fainted.”

“Oh...” Harry murmured in confusion.

“We're just going to give her a bath and remind her that she's come to live with her Grandmother now.”

“Alright...” Harry said, not entirely sure how he was supposed to respond to this news. He noticed that the woman was rather pretty despite being dressed as a homeless person. Her clothes were dirty and torn. Her hair was matted and tangled, and she emitted a smell that nearly made Harry gag from across the room. A person would have to be stupid to believe this woman had come directly from a convent!

The men vanished her clothes, and to their credit, they didn't fondle or molest her. Then they worked together to bathe her very thoroughly, making sure that she was clean and sweet smelling in no time. They cut all her hair off, but then cast a spell to make it regrow without tangles. Now Harry could see that it was a dark blonde, which they enhanced until it was the color of liquid honey.

The men obviously weren't as good with transfiguration as Cora, and rather than even try, they simply conjured up a bathrobe for the woman to wear now that she was done with her bath. The tub itself immediately emptied of all dirty water and refilled with clean.

One of the men cast a spell on her, telling her: “You no longer have to suffer. Your struggles in life are over. You won't even remember them. From now on, you have a new life. You're name is now Amethyst and you were raised in a beautiful and loving convent. Like your sisters before you, you've come to live with your grandmother. She loves you and cares for you, and in return, you help her entertain men. You make them laugh. You make them happy. You give them whatever they need, just as they will give you many gifts. They'll make you happy, and you'll never have to worry about anything ever again.”

He fell silent but continued to focus on his spell for a while longer. Eventually, he finished and smiled at his partner. “She's ready.”

With a nod, the bigger and fitter of the two cast a Rennervate on her. He hummed soothingly. “Shh, love, you're alright.”

She slowly regained consciousness, blinking in confusion. She didn't seem particularly alarmed, but they both made calming gestures as if she was. Her eyes were the greenest Harry'd seen in anyone other than himself.

“There we are, love. See? You're safe and have nothing to fret about. Are you hungry?”

She seemed to think about this for a moment, and then nodded. “Starving!”

“Do you mind if she finishes your dinner, Seirēn? Since you seem to be done eating.”

Harry gestured for them to take it, which one did even as the other helped the woman they named Amethyst into the only other chair in the room.

“Eat as much as you like, love. We'll bring you more if you need it.”

Harry suspected that there was a self refilling charm on the bowl, but they didn't mention that. After all, he'd eaten a fair amount and the bowl seemed almost as full as it was to begin with.

“Oi, why's this elf petrified?” Slightly less fit asked as bigger and fitter was frowning in confusion at Harry. “Is your hair changing color?”

“Bugger!” Harry muttered even as he cast a nonverbal and covert stunning spell at the man staring at him. His partner looked over as he fell to the ground, but didn't really have a chance to move before Harry stunned him too.

“What's the matter with them?” Amethyst asked in concern between the bites she was shoveling into her mouth.

“They were exhausted from bringing you here from the convent,” Harry lied.

She made a hmph sound. “That seems a bit sudden, but alright. What's your name? And whoa! Your hair really does seem to be changing color!”

Harry didn't know how much time had passed, but it didn't seem like an entire hour. That said, the time he Polyjuiced into Goyle, the potion seemed to start wearing off long before the full hour was up. That was probably why Barty Crouch Jr. seemed to take sips of the potion every half an hour or so.

In a snap decision, Harry decided to just let the potion wear off rather than maintain his impersonation. “Please try not to get upset,” he said, holding out his hands soothingly. “I'm not actually the woman I appear to be. I'm really a man named Harry Potter. I promise I have no intention of harming you. I'm just keeping an eye on the women in that room over there to make sure nothing happens to them before Police officers come in and rescue them.”

“Rescue from what?” Amethyst asked with a baffled frown. “Our grandmother takes care of us.”

“Erm... well, yes, she does seem to. But she also expects you to let men buy you,” Harry explained.

“She needs money to care for us,” Amethyst defended with a deeper frown. “It seems like a fair exchange to me. I never have to worry about going hungry. Some women live on the streets, starving, cold, and miserable. They have to let men bugger them in the hopes that they'll earn enough to eat. Or sometimes, just because they're not given a choice – payment or not.” She shuddered in horror. “I thank God every day that I was raised in a convent and don't have to suffer like that.”

Harry was starting to feel like his brain hurt. He wasn't entirely certain that he'd have called for a raid if he known this before. He might have just rescued Siobhan and left it at that. Even so, he had to trust that this was the right thing to do.

 

Three days later, he was watching the news on the telly in a muggle pub as he contemplated his life. A pretty newscaster caught his attention as a headline flashed across the bottom of the screen. Rather than ask the bar tender to turn up the volume, he secretly cast a nonverbal spell to do exactly that.

“In other news, we received word that police discovered a real life illegal brothel right here in London. It seems as if a woman by the name of [Cora Pearl Crouch ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cora_Pearl)and two accomplices made a habit of abducting young homeless women off the streets and brainwashing them so that they'd willingly be prostitutes. Apparently, men from middle class and wealthier circles would use one entrance to a popular bakery rather simplistically called Grandmother's Bakery and Tea Shop, while men of mysterious backgrounds would enter through another.”

Harry was surprised that detail had been mentioned. It had come as a shock that the shop had two very different entrances. This unfortunately meant that Cora had gotten away because while Aurors had fully warded her shop in Diagon Alley, a duplicate shop existed in a different part of London – a firmly muggle part.

The two shops were actually the same shop, a complex and confusing series of magic spells making the one shop exist at the same time in two places. Muggle customers entering the muggle door of the shop never even noticed the wizarding entrance. Nor did they notice the wizards themselves, just like wizards didn't truly notice the muggles or the muggle entrance. They all simply sat at their own tables, which Harry had already noted had privacy spells around them. Thus, it was quite simple for Cora to escape out the muggle entrance the moment she realized that she was being raided.

Still, the two accomplices were caught thanks to Harry stunning them, and all the women – as far as anyone could tell – were freed from their captivity.

“This news story takes a turn toward the strange here,” the newscaster continued. “While all of these women have received treatment to help fix the brainwashing, a lot of them are obviously still very confused. Some of the women admit that they were homeless – with one or two extraordinarily good looking exceptions – and authorities can more or less confirm their identities. Others claim to be from far enough in the past that they simply are not old enough to be from those times. The majority of the women who claim this cannot be verified through any records – as it is likely that they were born to homeless women on the streets and never documented. One woman in particular claims that she was born in the 1870s and has been living with her grandmother Cora since she was around twenty. The truly strange thing is that all of the details this woman has provided seem to correlate with a woman who actually did exist, but ended up living on the streets for an unknown amount of time before she simply disappeared.”

Kingsley utterly surprised Harry by sitting down next to him. He chuckled at Harry's expression. “You'd be surprised how often you visit this pub, Harry. I had someone wait until you arrived and let me know, since I wanted a drink anyway.”

Harry gestured for a waitress to come attend them, ordering another cider while Kingsley asked for a bottle of craft beer.

“What brings you here?” Harry wondered.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on a job well done,” Kingsley replied with a pat on Harry's shoulder.

“Is it though?” Harry asked in something close to desperation. “Had all those women been abducted from good lives and families like Siobhan, I would feel proud of saving them, but they weren't. The majority of those women were starving and probably dying on the streets before Cora and her cronies took them. As I understand it, the women were fed and cared for and even though they had to work as whores – they all seemed to think it was a better life than they had. I can't even imagine how hard their lives are going to be now.”

Kingsley sighed and rubbed his shiny bald black head. “Some of them might be placed in muggle mental hospital for a long time. Gemma – for example – had been one of Cora's girls since the 1890s. The majority of her memories _are_ living with her Grandmother and no amount of therapy will be able to change that. Even so, the muggle welfare system has a few different programs to help them live on their own and try to resume a sort of normal life.”

The newscaster suddenly caught Harry's attention again. “On a related note, one of the women recovered in this raid was a single mother who had been abducted from her son a little over a year ago. She'd been declared a runaway and her son was placed in an orphanage. Now that she's been found, authorities are working with her to ensure that she will eventually be ready to take her son back. It'll be a rather long process as she's still traumatized and highly disoriented, but her Doctors have every hope that she'll be better in no time.”

“Good!” Harry stated, this the only bit of cheer in the gloom.

Kingsley nodded in agreement. “Try not to get too down; you saved a mother and ensured that her son will not grow up an orphan. I've authorized payment to your vault as we agreed upon – 20 Galleons plus the expense of hiring Siobhan and a bonus for participating in the raid. And perhaps you'll take comfort from this: Cora Crouch may have saved those women from a life of misery and hardship, but using them to earn money for her is still ethically wrong. Besides, we have no idea what happened to any of the women she kept over the years that were no longer useful to her. There had to be some, and I doubt she just let them go.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed vaguely. It might be stupid and naïve of him, but he really felt he had made a mistake by sending Aurors to raid Cora. But not willing to let it get to him for long, he shrugged it off. “Yeah, you're right. Cora probably didn't care about them. She was just using them to make herself rich.”

“Richer since she'd actually earned a lot of money back in her day when she dated several Princes – actual European Royalty. Cora never needed to worry about money, not even if she lived several lifetimes. At least as far as we can determine based on historical public records. She quietly withdrew from her muggle life at some point, relocated here, and has been running a bakery ever since,” Kingsley informed Harry.

Harry raised a curious brow. “Was she related to Bartemius Crouch?”

Kingsley snorted a laugh. “You may find this ironic, but yes. She was his great- _grandmother_.”

That actually did make Harry chuckle a little. “You know what? That actually makes sense. I bet he _knew_ that his great-gran was a brothel owner and that was why he tried so hard to always appear on the straight and narrow. He didn't want anyone to look too closely at his family tree.”

Kingsley smiled and nodded in agreement. Then he summoned a file from his briefcase and tossed it on the table in front of Harry. “This case is nowhere near as exciting. Just a Ministry official I need to keep a quiet eye on. Interested?”

Harry looked at the file without picking it up or opening it. He wasn't entirely sure, if he were honest. He shrugged.

“Not sure. I look the file over and think about it.”

Kingsley grinned at him as if he was Kingsley's favorite son. “That's a good lad!”

With a tiny smile in return, Harry picked up the file. He then finished off his cider and stood up. “See you around,” he said as he left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hesitated giving this a rating of teen. The thing is that the rating for the entire work *will* eventually be Explicit, but that said, it takes 10 or 11 chapters to get there. Meanwhile, there's a lot of innuendo and references that could potentially make this Mature, but I'm lousy at deciding what's the bit that pushes it too far, lol. Also, I didn't want to just start with an E and then have y'all get mad at me because there's nothing on page for quite some time.


	2. In Which Draco is Guilted into Helping Harry Save a Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after starting his Independent Consultant business, Harry is given a case that he just can't solve on his own, he feels he has no choice but to go as Draco for help.

 

A year later, Harry had to admit that Kingsley had been on to something when he suggested that Harry be an Independent Consultant. As such, he ran his own business and made all his own decisions, but at the same time, he also got to do a lot of the same things Aurors did – the things that had originally interested him in becoming an Auror in the first place; protecting people and catching criminals. That said, he also had a lot of lesser cases where he was simply finding lost things or helping people with minor problems.

All in all, it was rather fulfilling.

Strangely, despite all of his first dozen or so cases coming from Kingsley – and nearly half of them still did – the people he had helped during those cases, both muggle and wizard kind alike, had referred him to others. Any time a friend or relative had a problem, big or small, that they just couldn't seem to solve, past clients of Harry's would tell them to come to him, and they did. Harry went from thinking that this would be an interesting hobby on the side to a legitimate career that earned a moderate income.

Even stranger, word had somehow spread that Harry Potter solved problems, so he was continually overrun with fans sending him letters talking about  _all_ of their problems. Most of it was easily solvable with some sensible advice, but some of it was real cases for him to work. As for the ones that just needed advice, he'd actually hired Siobhan to respond to all of those letters since she had a rather good head on her shoulders. She and Rhys were among the very few people allowed through his wards. She'd come to do her job of handling his fan mail each afternoon and bring Rhys along to play with Harry's pug, Zoë.

Today, Harry smiled as he watched them chase each other around, a cup of tea in one hand and a new case in his other. The case was a bit of a problem for him. A girl was missing... sort of. Her family knew exactly where she was, they just couldn't get to her. As they were cleaning out their attic, they'd come across an  _old_ family heirloom – a hope chest that hadn't been seen in over a century as it was hidden in the back of their attic under a mound of other things. They'd uncovered it and the girl had opened it, only to be immediately sucked inside. 

Her family had gone to the police, but of course, had been dismissed. The police – once again – assumed that the girl had run away. They distributed her description and kept an eye out for her, but unsurprisingly, hadn't found her. It'd actually been Siobhan who saw the case on the news and went to the family to ask what had happened. She'd then brought the case to Harry's attention.

Now, Harry had to figure out how to help them. The first thing he'd done was ask Bill to take a look and see if it was simply cursed. Bill – a highly competent and kick ass curse breaker – had sadly reported that, well, yes, it did have a curse on it. That said, it wasn't something he could fix because the curse was warped and protected by the  _other_ large piece of magic on it. It had originally been intended as a sort of mini holiday world – Harry liked to think of it much like Narnia – with the curse simply there to keep others away. Over the years, the chest itself had suffered quite a bit of hardship as it was handed down through the family. They were muggles descended from a squib and didn't know  _how_ to maintain the magic, though they did try to keep the chest in good condition. However, the magic of the chest wore thinner and thinner until Harry would be very surprised if it even  _could_ work correctly. Plus, as mentioned, it combined with the magic of the curse until both had warped and could not be fixed unless someone was skilled at  _both_ curse-breaking and magical furniture repair.

Bill had tried a few minor spells, but was afraid that if he just straight up removed all magic from the hope chest, he'd either kill the girl in the process, or she'd be lost forever. Thus, Harry had a conundrum on his hands.  _Who_ in the world knew how to break curses  _and_ repair magical furniture? Not even Bill knew of such a person as furniture repair would be of no interest to most curse breakers, and on the other side of it, curse breaking was usually dangerous work that most furniture repair specialists would likely avoid. Or call in an expert if they needed a curse broken. It was almost unheard of for a single item to need someone skilled in both.

Sighing, Harry tossed the file aside and put his head in his hands as he thought. It would haunt him forever if he failed this poor girl. His only consolation was that – by all accounts of the chest in the family records – the inside world was a beautiful paradise and she'd never age or feel pain or starve. Provided that the magic was still working enough to maintain that – which Harry had his doubts about.

Slowly, one insane possibility entered his head and refused to leave. Rubbing his temples in reluctance, he finally convinced himself that he had no other choice. Besides, it probably wouldn't work out anyway.

Sighing in aggravation, Harry stood up. “I'll be back later.”

“Good luck!” Siobhan wished him, barely looking up from the letter she was reading.

A moment later, Harry had his destination fixed enough in his mind that he was able to Apparate. His stood looking at the gates a bit apprehensively. The last time he'd been here hadn't exactly been a good day. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and pulled on a chain that rang a bell.

An elf popped up on the other side of the gate, staring at him curiously. “Sir has business with my Masters?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed with a nod. “Harry Potter to see Draco Malfoy.”

“Wait here please,” the elf bade, although Harry couldn't exactly follow him since he was still outside the gate.

The elf Apparated into the sun room, where the entire Malfoy family was taking their afternoon tea. Narcissa – as the one who normally dealt with the running of the household, and thus, the elves – beckoned to the elf. Rather than obey, the elf approached Draco.

“Master has a visitor.”

“Really?” Draco asked in curiosity mixed with bafflement. Everyone he knew that would visit him had access to floo into the Manor and would almost certainly firecall if they weren't going to floo in directly. “Who?”

“Mr. Harry Potter.”

“ _What_???” Draco asked in surprise and bafflement.

“Bring our guest here and see to it he has refreshments,” Narcissa ordered like any gracious hostess.

“Er... what if I don't want to see him?” Draco asked in mild protest.

“It's only prudent to listen to what he has to say,” Narcissa stated, her tone allowing exactly zero arguments.

“Yes mother,” Draco capitulated with a defeated sigh.

The elf returned just then with Harry in tow.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa invited with a sweeping gesture.

Harry hesitated for a moment, clearly wondering if Lucius had anything nefarious in mind. Then he pushed his misgivings aside and sat in the indicated seat. “Thank you,” he murmured to Narcissa just before the elf summoned tea and biscuits for him, which he promptly scanned for anything harmful.

Lucius waited exactly long enough for Harry to take a tentative sip of his tea before demanding: “What brings you here today?”

Harry looked at him for a moment before turning to face Draco. It was technically a rude snub, but since Lucius had a clear rude tone to his voice, and hadn't added any form of respectful address, Harry felt justified.

“You might find this hard to believe, but I was wondering if you had any experience with breaking curses,” Harry said, keeping his voice calm and even.

“What?” Draco responded, not expecting that in the slightest. “Why do you ask? Don't you have a weasel in your pocket who's an expert at it?”

Harry narrow his eyes for a moment unappreciatively, but decided to let the insult slide. “Yes, I do. But I need someone who has experience in not just breaking curses, but  _also_ in magical furniture repair.”

It was Draco's turn to narrow his eyes unappreciatively. “Sorry, but no.”

Harry frowned. “You  _don't_ have experience breaking curses? I'm not sure why, but I thought you did.”

“No, I mean that I'm not going to help you, so you can just leave now,” Draco told him off.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Look, Malfoy, I know that helping people is not your thing, but I have a poor muggle girl trapped in a broken and cursed hope chest. I don't possess the skills necessary to free her, and I don't know anyone else who does. You're literally my only hope.” As he said this, he held his hands about four inches apart, palms facing each other, and gestured to Draco before clasping his hands together.

Draco studied him warily. “What do I get if I help you?”

Harry gave him a small smile. “Helping people is literally my business. If you agree to work with me, I'll naturally pay you a small fee.”

“ _Small_?” Draco questioned with a light glare.

“This is a lower middle class family, Malfoy,” Harry pointed out, returning the light glare. “It's not like they can afford to pay me a fortune. I'll gladly give the entire fee to you, but yes, it'll be rather small by your standards.”

Draco sat thinking this over in silence for a long time. His face was mostly smooth and calm, but flickers of emotion indicated that he didn't like the course of his thoughts. After a full minute, he shook his head.

“Look, that year when I had to take a crash course and learn everything there was to know about magical furniture repair, it was a large part of the worst time of my life. I don't look forward to revisiting it by using the skills I learned. Ever. Besides, even though I do know a bit about curse breaking – although I have _no idea_ how you heard about it – I've never used the two skills together. I'm not sure I'd even know how. Thus, I _can't_ help you.”

“You can at least try. If you can't do anything, then no harm done and I'm in the same situation. But if you _can_ help, then you'll be giving a family back their fourteen year old daughter – and sister. She has two younger brothers,” Harry added, hoping to appeal to the sliver of compassion he was sure had to be buried somewhere very deep inside Draco.

Draco narrowed his eyes again. “That won't work, Potter. I'll not be swayed by a sob story.”

Harry took a deep breath and held it in order to suppress a groan. He had one mildly dirty trick up his sleeve, but he had sincerely hoped to not have to play it. That said, Draco wasn't giving him much choice.

“You owe me your life,” Harry pointed out. “It seems like this would be a good way to repay me.”

Draco looked offended for a moment, but then his expression turned to intrigue. “Are you saying that if I try my best to help you with this – whether it works or not – you'll consider my life debt paid?”

Harry didn't truly believe the Sorting Hat was right about him having an inner Slytherin until just now. Rather than immediately agree like a Gryffindor, Harry gave Draco a shrewd look. “Not exactly. I'd say that if it works, I'll consider your debt partially paid. After all, I risked my life to pull you out of that fire, and you won't be risking your life at all. If it doesn't work, then we're both still in the same situation.”

Draco did not look happy about this at all, but he also couldn't argue. He remained silent with a sour expression. Harry decided to twist the metaphorical knife.

“Not to mention that you were wandless and about to be murdered by one of _your_ side's Death Eaters, and I knocked him out and saved you from that too.”

Draco exhaled in frustration. “ _Fine,_ Potter,” he ground out. “I'll see what I can do to help, but I make no promises.”

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed with a happy grin. 

Narcissa reached out and patted Harry's hand. “Life debts aside, Mr. Potter, thank you for saving my son. If you should ever need anything from me, I'll not hesitate to give it to you.”

Harry blushed, mildly uncomfortable with her sincerity. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm, you're welcome, Mrs. Malfoy. And you can call me Harry.”

Narcissa smile at him. “Lovely, Harry. You may call me Narcissa.”

Harry nodded in acceptance, but didn't say anything. Until he remembered something important. “And thank you, er, for lying to Voldemort for me.”

All three Malfoys flinched slightly at the name, but didn't say anything about him using it.

“Yes, well, it was clear to me by that point that he held no regard for me, my husband, or my son,” Narcissa said before taking a sip of tea. She was every inch a well bred lady, almost regally so. “And so he did not deserve my loyalty. Plus, I have to admit, having witnessed you survive a killing curse that hit you directly and you did nothing to defend against, I was rather certain by that point that the Dark Lord _couldn't_ kill you – no matter how hard he tried. Thus, the only other option was for you to defeat him, and I think we can all agree that _that_ was for the best.”

“Oh, he actually killed me,” Harry assured her rather inappropriately cheerfully. “I went to a sort of limbo and was told that by killing me, he had killed the part of himself inside me that made me a Horcrux for him.” He tapped on his pain free scar. “I was given a choice to come back, and to be honest, I didn't really want to. But I still believed that only I could defeat Voldemort when actually, once all the Horcruxes were destroyed, anyone at all could have killed him. Probably not easily, but still.” He shrugged. “That said, by choosing to die, I inadvertently created the exact same charm my mother did when she died for me. My death protected everyone and Voldemort couldn't truly hurt anyone after that. I didn't actually know that at the time, but that's a big part of the reason Voldemort ended up killing himself when he tried to kill me yet again. All I was trying to do was disarm him so that the Ministry could bring him to justice for his many crimes.”

“Well...” Narcissa faltered, looking pale. Her hands shook ever so slightly before she set her tea cup and saucer on the table. “Thank Merlin it all worked out.”

Harry nodded in agreement. Then he turned to Draco. “You ready to go save a girl's life?”

Draco had his lips pressed together, looking like he was upset but trying to hide it. He took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Alright, Potter. Lead the way.”

Harry stood up and nodded respectfully at Narcissa. “Good afternoon Mrs. – er, Narcissa. Mr. Malfoy,” he added in a reluctant grumble.

“Good afternoon Harry, and good luck,” she wished as Lucius gave Harry a terse nod of reluctant respect.

“Can I Apparate out from here?” Harry asked.

“Should be able to,” Draco murmured, frowning suspiciously as Harry held out his hand.

“Don't be a prat, Malfoy. I need to side-along you,” Harry informed him, his hand still out expectantly.

With a mildly vexed sigh, Draco took Harry's hand with a look like he'd rather chew his hand off than hold Harry's. Deciding not to belabor the point, Harry simply Apparated them to his home.

“YOU'RE HOME!!!” Rhys roared joyously as he flung himself into Harry's arms. 

Harry hugged him with a pleased chuckle even though the boy was now seven and getting a little heavy. “Where's your mum?”

“In the kitchen making dinner,” Rhys answered. 

“Is this a son you somehow conceived when you were what? _Twelve_?” Draco asked in surprise with a look like he couldn't believe Harry'd been such a slag back then.

Harry roared with laughter. “Sometimes I wish he was.”

“Aww Harry,” Rhys purred before kissing him on the cheek and hugging him again. The hug was so enthusiastic that he nearly strangled Harry.

Taking this in stride, Harry carried him over to the table where he'd left the file. It wasn't there. He turned his head side to side, but didn't see it on the floor or anywhere. He also absently bent over to pet Zoë before she decided that she had to bark as loudly as possible to let him know that there was a stranger in the house.

“Oi, Shevvie!” He called out. “Did you move my file?!”

“Yeah, I put it in the drawer so it couldn't get lost!” Siobhan called out from the kitchen.

“Which drawer?” Harry wondered since there were quite a few possibilities.

A moment later, Siobhan entered the room, wiping her hands on an apron as she walked. “That one.”

Harry tilted his head to the side and studied the drawer she pointed to. “I really hope that's not one of the ones cursed by Mrs. Black to zap anyone who touches it.”

“Didn't zap me when I opened it,” Siobhan said with a shrug. “And can that really happen?”

“Anything's possible with magic, Shevvie,” Harry replied with a shrug. He set Rhys down and walked over to the drawer, standing back as much as possible as he opened the drawer. To his relief, nothing happened. “Phew!”

“I take it you're going to visit the Coopers?” Siobhan asked, glancing at Draco. “Looks like you found a specialist after all.”

Harry nodded absently as he reread the file. “Yeah, er, this is Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, this is Siobhan Wilkens.”

Draco was clearly sizing Siobhan up while she looked him over curiously. She liked his unique looks, secretly wishing he'd been a patron back when she'd been a brainwashed prostitute – which she remembered even though she'd been healed so that she  _also_ remembered her real life too.

As for Draco, he thought Siobhan was pretty enough for a muggle. At least he assumed she was a muggle since that was how she was dressed. She had nice curves, and he could see the appeal – although he hadn't thought Harry Potter would choose a muggle when he had an entire world of witches (and wizards) that would happily drop everything to be with him.

Returning her attention to Harry, Siobhan smiled. “Well, I pray you'll fix things. I've finished up my work, and so, once we've finished eating, I'm going to be volunteering at the orphanage for a few hours. Thus, we'll be gone by the time you return home.”

“Alright Shevvie,” Harry replied, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

Siobhan returned his kiss with an adoring smile. “See you.”

Now that Harry had the destination fixed in his mind, he tossed the file back in the drawer and held out his hand to Draco. “Ready to go, Malfoy?”

Draco made a sarcastic gesture that asked:  _what else am I going to do?_ Then he put his hand in Harry's again, this time not looking nearly so sour about it. They popped over to the Apparation point closest to the Coopers, which was about two blocks away in a secluded alley.

As they walked, Draco decided that anything was better than silence. “How long have you been dating that muggle?”

“What? Shevvie?” Harry asked in surprise. “I'm not dating her. I mean I did once, but it wasn't a real date.”

Draco was clearly skeptical. “You mean you're not shagging her dirty rotten every chance you get?”

“No!” Harry blurted out with a blush. “The closest I've ever gotten to having sex with Shevvie is when I Polyjuiced into her and played with myself – Aaa! Forget I said that!”

Draco raised a brow in definite amusement and curiosity. “Oh really now. Is Polyjuice sex a kink of yours, Potter?”

Harry realized that it was going to sound bad no matter what he said, and he didn't exactly have time to explain the whole situation, so he decided to be flippant. “Sure, Malfoy. I earn about a thousand Galleons for each hair I sell. Not a bad way to clean out my brush.”

“Merlin's hairy arse, Potter! I'm sure you're probably having me on, but do you have any idea how much you could actually make if you did that?” Draco questioned avidly, since making money was one of his biggest passions in life.

Harry stopped and gave him a funny look. “How would  _you_ like knowing that complete strangers are turning into you and either touching themselves – thus you – in any perverted way they like, or else having actual sex with others in your body.” He shuddered in mild horror.

Draco shrugged. “But it wouldn't  _actually_ be your body. So long as you kept clear records of each person who bought a hair, you could  _prove_ that it's not you should anyone ever try to publish illicit pictures in the paper – or claim paternity.”

Harry was surprised to find that Draco had enough of a point that he just didn't feel like arguing about it. “Alright, aside from that, I honestly don't need money.  _Maybe_ if I ever did need money – or for a charity auction or some such.”

Draco stroked his chin in thought. “I know of several worthy charities. I could ask my mother to host a fundraiser, which would not only give her something to do, but would make her happy. Of course, it wouldn't work – what with our name still the equivalent of mud – unless you agreed to co-host it with her.”

Harry was rather baffled. “Are you  _actually_ asking me to help host a fundraiser  _solely_ to auction off one of my hairs???”

Draco waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing like that, Potter. You simply mentioned a charity auction, and that reminded me that my mother used to love hosting those.”

“Oh... erm... I suppose I'll think about it,” Harry murmured. “But probably not. I don't really like being in the public eye.”

They both fell silent since there wasn't anything else to say, and Harry finished leading them to the Cooper household. Harry knocked on the door and waited patiently for someone to open it. A pale and trembling, but not actively crying, woman answered the door.

“Gwen Cooper? My name is Harry Potter. Siobhan Wilkens told me about you and I'm the one that sent my friend Bill Weasley here to try to help. Now I'm here in person with Draco Malfoy – a man I hope can fix the chest and save Beka.”

Gwen was nodding in understanding. “Yes, please Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, come in. Thank you both for coming.”

They followed her into the kitchen and were offered tea. After the pleasantries were seen to, Harry asked to be shown to the hope chest. He and Draco both studied it with their eyes for a long moment. It was about two feet tall, four feet wide, and two feet deep. It appeared to be made from oak back in a time before boards were more or less uniform in size, and had an intricate hand-carved design across the front and the feet. Lastly, it was scuffed and worn but still rather sturdy and solid – as opposed to falling apart.

Draco turned his head to look at Harry. “Statute?”

“Don't worry about that,” Harry assured him with a small smile. “I have special permission from the Minister for Magic himself to break the Statute as necessary in my work. If – after reviewing the case once it's solved – it's determined that the muggles need to be Obliviated, then professionals will be sent in.”

“What's that mean?” Gwen asked warily.

Harry smiled at her reassuringly. “It's nothing bad. It simply means that if it's determined that you are too traumatized by what has happened, someone will visit you and take all memories of Beka being missing. That said, I'm fairly certain that since the news was on the telly and too many people know, it would be impossible to take the memory from everyone, and so you'll just be asked to agree with the conclusion the police came to – that she ran away; or got lost; or stayed with a friend for a few days.”

“I see...” Gwen murmured, not sounding as reassured as Harry'd like.

Suppressing a sigh that he was about to break a major law on nothing more than Harry's word that it was alright, Draco pulled out his wand – the same one that Harry had given back to him after his trial was over and he'd been cleared of all charges. Biting his lip in concentration, Draco performed an array of scans on the chest. He had to run two types of scans; one type to diagnose the damage to the magic of the chest, and the other to determine which curse he was dealing with.

Time passed rather slowly for Harry and Gwen, who grew mildly bored as they watched. As for Draco, the more he scanned, the more fascinated he became. He even started muttering to himself.

“Interesting... That was unexpected... How clever!” He eventually looked up at Harry. “Did you know this was designed to be a sandy beach with a waterfall and a nice pond full of fish? There's also a farmhouse nearby where chickens and a large vegetable garden presumably provide food to anyone staying in here. Everything's spelled to stay exactly as it is – so, for example, the potatoes and carrots won't rot in the field if not harvested. The chickens won't grow old and die. They also don't hatch chicks. If any of them are killed and made into dinner, one of the others duplicates. If you harvest a bunch of carrots, they immediately regrow. A family could live their entire lives in here and never starve or have to worry about anything – as far as I can tell.”

“That sounds nice,” Harry murmured.

Draco nodded in agreement, then frowned. “There are downsides too though. Because the sun never sets, it's essentially one day – sort of frozen in time. A person staying in there wouldn't know how long they'd been in there if they didn't have something – most likely  _someone_ on the outside – to remind them of how much time has passed. Thus, if someone hopped in here back in 1852 and never came out, he or she would still be in there, probably thinking that a couple of years had passed at most. They won't have aged, so that's a plus, I suppose. On the other hand, everyone they've ever know will have died. The  _other_ downside is that because the spells have degraded, the chest has put everything inside to sleep to conserve what magic is left. Unless it's actually frozen everything in a single moment. Either way, no harm has come to anything inside, they're just not...”

Harry nodded in understanding. “They're not what we'd consider fully alive.”

“Exactly,” Draco stated in agreement. Then he sighed just a tiny bit morosely. “The problem I'm currently running into is that the curse is designed to keep anyone not possessing the right blood out of the chest – and I'm not one of them. The chest has fed on the curse to fuel the fading magic, and so I can't just break the curse without killing all the magic, and I can't be certain that doing so would be safe.”

Harry nodded again. “That's exactly what Bill said.”

Draco took a deep breath. “That said, since I have another skill your weasel doesn't – Legilimency – I can probably access what is something like the mind of the chest and separate the two types of magic back into their own compartments – so to speak. Once I do, I should be able to break the curse, and then fix the chest. After that, anyone at all should be able to open the chest and pull the girl out.”

Harry exhaled in relief and gave Draco a smile so dazzling it seemed to light up the whole room. “Brilliant! I  _knew_ you'd be able to help!”

Draco pursed his lips. “Let's not put the carriage before the thestral, Potter. I still have to do it.” He glanced at the chest nervously, sincerely hoping that he actually  _could_ do what he said he could.

Harry frowned curiously. “Where'd you learn Legilimency?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Where do you  _think_ , Potter? A certain person we both knew insisted that everyone who worked for him had to at least try to learn it so that they could, erm, detect lies...” he trailed off, not needing to mention all the other reasons the Dark Lord had used Legilimency (or ordered his followers to use it) on people.

“Alright,” Harry accepted with a slight nod.

Taking a deep breath, Draco gathered up all of his concentration and focused completely on the chest. He muttered vaguely, sounding far away: “This might take me quite some time, but try not to disturb me unless absolutely necessary.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed, more than willing to listen to Draco if it resulted in things working out.

Knowing from previous experience that he'd want to be as comfortable as possible, Draco conjured a plush cushion and sat on it before pushing his mind into the chest. Exactly as promised, he sat – almost as if frozen – lightly glaring at the chest for a long time, only a steady glow from his wand indicating that anything was happening.

After a while, Harry got utterly bored, so he decided to distract Gwen, who was staring hopefully at Draco. “So, Gwen, can you tell me more about Beka? We'd probably better take this conversation over there so we don't accidentally disturb Draco.”

Nodding, Gwen led Harry to the other side of the attic, where two chairs framed a circular table. It was obvious that they'd been put there early on in the attic cleaning process to provide a place to take a break. Dirty dishes indicated that Gwen – and more than likely the rest of the family – brought refreshments up here to keep busy with as they stared at the chest.

“There's so much I could say about Beka, and conversely, not much at all. She was a good girl. She loved horses and always _begged_ us to buy her one – but of course we could never afford it. She played football, hoping to be on a national team one day. David Beckham was her favorite player, but really, who _didn't_ love him? What more do you want to know?”

“Actually, I'm a bit curious about something, why didn't the chest open for anyone else? Did any of you try opening it to pull her out, or were you too afraid to try in case it pulled you in too?” Harry asked, trying to be delicate.

Gwen frowned. “Of course we tried!” Then she sighed. “But none of us could get it open. It would sting us. Not too bad, but enough to make us give up trying after about an hour.”

Harry nodded, realizing that it probably would have stung harder, or done something worse, had the curse been in full effect. “But... that still doesn't explain...” he trailed off with a frown of thought.

Gwen shrugged. “Mr. Malfoy said that it was linked to blood, well, that's probably why none of the rest of us could open the hope chest. When Beka was born, I was married to her father – Harold Strode. This house and everything in it was handed down to him through his family. I know it's a rather small house – not like those fancy mansions that come to mind when thinking about old family homes – but it's our home. You know?”

She sighed and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Harold died when Beka was a toddler; a car accident. He left this house to her because she's his only heir. Except, she wasn't old enough to inherit it yet, so we live here until she is. I eventually remarried, and now I have two boys – thus, none of us carry the blood she does.”

“Ah,” Harry murmured in enlightenment. He asked a few more questions, but eventually they both fell silent as they watched Draco work. Not that there was really anything to see.

Gwen's husband George came home from work about the time that their two sons returned home from school. All five of them sat watching Draco, both boys being surprisingly quiet. Harry had conjured more chairs and made the table big enough for all of them.

At one point, Gwen heard her sons' stomachs growling and left to make a stack of sandwiches. They ate in silence – which was starting to get to Harry. Never in his life had he shared a meal with someone and not talked (or listened to them talk, at any rate). More often than not, dinners were loud since he tended to visit the Burrow three to four times a week.

Harry was relieved in more ways than one when Draco suddenly gasped and nearly fell over. He rushed over to help if needed. Which, he was.

“Grab her,” Draco wheezed, sounding as if he was personally trying to hold up a mountain. 

Without giving it any thought, Harry reached over and opened the chest. He found Beka in a daze, slowly blinking up at him as if she really thought she was dreaming. With one hand holding open the lid, he used his other to wandlessly and nonverbally cast a spell to lift her out of the chest so all it took was his free hand to pull her into his arms. He then let the lid fall shut.

Draco took a deep breath and barely waited for Harry to get clear before casting a series of spells that fixed the chest. He  _might_ have simply left it be – the magic continuing to fade until it was just a regular chest – now that he'd broken the curse – but A: Harry had actually mentioned fixing the chest as part of the job; and B: the chest itself was a lovely and complex bit of magic that would be a shame to waste. He barely had the energy to finish, and the moment he was done, he passed out.

“Draco!” Harry cried out in alarm. He'd had enough time to run a basic scan on Beka to know that she was just fine. So, he gently pushed her off his lap so that he could press his fingers to Draco's neck. Finding a pulse, he exhaled in relief and cast the basic scan he knew for use in minor first aid. It showed that Draco was simply exhausted and resting. He couldn't help but sigh in relief at that.

“Is he alright?” Gwen asked in concern. 

“Yeah, he'll be fine,” Harry assured her.

“We owe him so much!” Gwen blurted out as she hugged her daughter.

“We don't have much, but what we have is yours,” her husband George added, rubbing a hand up and down Beka's back.

“Whaaat's going on?” Beka asked slowly in confusion.

Everyone but Harry tried to explain it to her in unison, but understandably, it all became jumbled nonsense. Gwen lost patience rather quickly and held up her hands. Her family fell silent surprisingly fast.

“We'll tell you everything later. For now, please go to your room. Boys, you go to your rooms as well. Your father and I will come talk to you in a few minutes.”

“But,” Beka tried to protest in confusion, but her mother wouldn't hear it. She firmly insisted, practically pushing Beka toward the stairs.

Once the kids had left the attic, Gwen sighed. “I'm not sure I'll ever let them up here again,” she muttered before shaking her head. “Mr. Potter, can you get rid of that chest? I know it's part of Beka's inheritance, but I don't want her going near it ever again. Not to mention, I shudder to think of this happening to her children – or grandchildren!”

Harry had to admit that having a powerful magical item in a muggle family that couldn't take care of it would almost certainly cause problems in the long run. Even so, he didn't want to destroy something that was intended to be used for good. He slowly nodded.

“Would you be satisfied if I simply took it away?” Harry asked.

“Perfect!” Gwen exclaimed in agreement, not actually caring what happened to it so long as it was gone.

“Alright. I'll also scan the attic for anything else that might have hidden magic in it. Make sure that nothing else is up here waiting to cause problems,” Harry said prudently.

“Please do,” George stated, sweeping his hand out as if in invitation.

Harry performed a few scans and found that a couple of old relics had hints of faded magic, but since it was all so weak, he was able to cancel what was left of it without much effort. “There. All safe. Erm... since I've utterly demolished the Statute of Secrecy here anyway, can you promise me not to say a word of anything you've seen here tonight?”

“Of course,” the Coopers promised, far too relieved to have their daughter back safe to betray him. Besides, Gwen hadn't forgotten that she might lose her memories if she went around gabbing.

Nodding in acceptance, Harry turned to face the chest again. “Please don't get upset. They may look scary, but house elves are harmless.” He barely let that warning register before calling out: “Kreacher!”

“Master calls?” Kreacher asked in his gloomy voice as he popped into the attic.

“I need you to bring that hope chest home for me. Put it in the drawing room for now,” Harry ordered. 

“Yes Master,” Kreacher replied, snapping his fingers to make the chest float before he and it disappeared. 

At the same time, Harry bent over and picked Draco up. He turned to face a pair of rather spooked looking muggles. “I'll consider the chest as payment in full. If you should happen to need anything else – or hear of someone having troubles that sound magical in nature – here's my card. That number actually belongs to Siobhan, but she's like my secretary, so I'll definitely get the message.”

George took the card that floated over to him with a solemn nod. “Thank you again, Mr. Potter. And please pass our sincerest gratitude along to Mr. Malfoy. Without him, we'd probably never have our daughter back.”

Harry nodded a promise to do so before Apparating back home.

 

***

 

Draco woke up the next afternoon feeling not quite fully rested. His body ached and itched. But that wasn't even the worst of it. The worst was that he had no idea where he was.

Barking in the background irritated him and was probably what had woken him. However, he recalled Harry having a dog, so that gave him hope that he was back at Harry's house and not simply abandoned somewhere. Such as a muggle hospital or something.

He sat up, discovered that he was still fully dressed, and slowly slipped out of bed. The moment he opened the door to the bedroom he was staying in, he heard Harry practically shout.

“Enough Zoë! Rhys? Will you please take her outside?”

“Sure thing Harry!”

“That's better. What brings you here, Kingsley?”

“I have an interesting tidbit to pass along. Lovely to see you again, Ms. Wilkens.”

“You as well, Mr. Shacklebolt.”

“Please sit. I'll have Kreacher bring us tea.”

“That would be refreshing, Harry, thank you.”

“Kreacher, please bring a pot of my favorite Lapsang Souchong and a plate of chocolate covered biscuits.”

“Yes Master.”

“Let me come directly to the point, Harry, since I'm running behind schedule.”

“Of course, Kingsley.”

“I've just received an owl from the President of MACUSA. He has a bit of a problem on his hands. They have a wizard-muggle hybrid company working on making muggle technology feasible for the wizarding world. Recently, the CEO of the company disappeared, along with quite a bit of their proprietary information and developmental technology. Teams of Aurors have investigated, but there's nothing to clarify whether he ran off with it or was abducted. President Quahog is a friend of his and is certain he'd never just abscond like that. The President has actually sent out owls to all the wizarding governments around the world, asking for any help. He hopes that someone will have seen him – no matter what happened.”

“And you thought that maybe I'd be able to help.”

“Well, you do seem to know a spell that you used to locate Ms. Wilkens here when she was missing.”

“That was just a modification Hermione made to the Point Me spell. No one else has seriously ever tried modifying it?”

By this point, Draco had followed the conversation all the way to the drawing room. “Not everyone can create new or modify existing spells, Potter.”

“Malfoy!” Harry cried out in relief and a strange sense of happiness. “I'm glad to see you're awake already. I really thought I was going to have to bring you to St. Mungo's, and then face your mother's wrath for letting you be hurt after all.”

“Oh no, she wouldn't express her displeasure to you directly,” Draco assured him with an amused smirk. “You'd simply disappear at some point and never be heard from again.”

“Is that a threat?” Kingsley asked darkly.

Draco shook his head. “Not at all, Minister. I was actually making a joke, but I can see why you'd assume I was being serious.”

Harry laughed. “I'm not sure if I can picture your mother being quite so formidable.”

Draco shrugged. “She likes you and was showing you her nice side. If you ever have cause to see her angry side,  _run_ .”

Harry laughed again. “Good to know. Would you like something to eat before you go home.”

“I could eat,” Draco admitted with a nod.

Harry gestured an invitation for Draco to sit at the table with them. “Kreacher! Please bring a plate of that roast suckling pig I made – along with whatever sides I have in stasis.”

“Ooo, you still have some of that?” Siobhan asked with interest, one hand covering her suddenly growling stomach.

Harry chuckled. “I like making food far more than I like eating it, so I have lots of leftovers.”

“Kreacher, I'd like a plate too!” Siobhan called out in the direction of the kitchen, since she was not Kreacher's Mistress and he couldn't hear her like he could Harry.

Kreacher popped into the room with a murderous expression. “The muggle thinks she can order Kreacher around. If my beloved Mistress could hear her, she'd be spinning in her grave.”

“Kreacher!” Harry chided. “You're lucky you can't see or hear him, Shevvie, since he hates muggles and is being rather mean.”

“That's rather odd,” Kingsley remarked. “Most muggles can see them once they know magic is real.”

Siobhan shrugged. “Grandmother Cora thought it was odd as well. The rest of the girls could see her elf and would describe him to me. Not that there was ever much talking among the girls. We'd be woken up to do our job, fed, bathed, and then put back to sleep. I still shudder to think that one girl was working for Grandmother for a little more than a hundred years! My son would have grown old and died in that time,” Siobhan said as she tucked into the plate Kreacher brought her despite his grumbling.

Harry reached over and squeezed her hand. “I still have mixed feelings about the situation as a whole, but I  _am_ glad I rescued you.” 

Siobhan smiled at him. “As am I, but I can understand what you mean. I  _did_ have a chance to talk to most of the girls after the raid, while we were being treated in St. Mungo's, and nearly all of them were happy and felt cared for by our Grandmother – ugh! I can't even bring myself to call her by just her name! Anyway, they all described terrible lives on the streets, and honestly, she never let any of the patrons abuse us, so it was usually fun.”

“Be that as it may, it was still illegal,” Kingsley reminded her.

“I know,” Siobhan murmured. “I just pray that my sisters can find happiness now that they're out on their own again.”

“They're getting plenty of help,” Harry said, because it was the only thing that soothed his own irrational sense of guilt.

Siobhan simply smiled and nodded. “It's weird to have a whole year of memories in which I was at peace and happy, expected to do only one thing and have fun with it, and then  _know_ that for me, it was only like that because they'd changed my real memories and made me forget my son.”

Speaking of, Rhys ran back into the room being chased by Zoë. “Mum! Harry! I think I saw a fairy! Zoë even barked at it!”

Harry sighed as if in defeat. “There's always an  _atrocious_ infestation of doxies here. They used to be in the drawing room, but I managed to relocate them to the backyard. Please try not to touch them, Rhys, they bite and their venom can be unpleasant.”

“So... not a fairy?” Rhys asked.

“Well, a type of fairy, I suppose,” Harry admitted.

“Hooray! I saw a fairy!” Rhys cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “Come on Zoë! Let's go see if we can find it again!”

Harry chuckled. “He'll probably love it when he finds the garden gnomes. They look like potatoes and I only have two of them – both males – so they manage to hide fairly easily.”

Kingsley cleared his throat, re-stowing his pocket watch from having just checked the time. “Getting back to why I'm here.”

“Right,” Harry agreed apologetically.

“If you decide to travel to America to help find the missing CEO, I'm sure MACUSA would be willing to pay you anything you want. That said, I'll _also_ authorize payment for your expenses and your fee – what are you charging now?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, for something like this, I think 40 Galleons a day, plus expenses as you said, plus the Portkey.”

“What's a Portkey?” Siobhan wondered.

“It's any item that's been charmed to transport a person across great distances,” Harry explained.

“Ooo... can we come?” Siobhan asked eagerly.

“I'd normally say yes, because I'd love the company and you are so good at dealing with people when I don't want to, but I have no idea how long this'll take, and Rhys is still in school,” Harry pointed out.

Siobhan sighed a bit morosely. “True. Well, please take care of yourself while you're gone. America is such a wild and lawless land.”

Harry snorted in amusement, as she intended. But then he remembered something important. Frowning he returned his attention to Kingsley. “Wait, so you're telling me that  _no one_ in America knows how to modify a simple Point Me spell?”

“What's a Point Me spell?” Kingsley asked curiously.

Harry frowned in confusion and pulled out his wand, setting it on the palm of his right hand. “Point me!” The wand promptly spun around just once. It landed in the direction of north. Harry pointed in that direction. “That way's north. It's a basic spell if I need a compass. Hermione found it for me when I needed to get through the maze during the Triwizard Tournament. Then she modified it for me when I needed to find my Firebolt after it was lost that night when everyone Polyjuiced into me and Voldemort chased us all over the country.”

“The night Moody died,” Kingsley murmured, bowing his head respectfully a moment. 

Harry nodded in agreement before continuing. “Point Me Firebolt!” The wand began to glow and shifted until it was pointing up toward Harry's bedroom. “My broom had fallen out of the sidecar I was in and it was over a year before I could go back and look for it. I was too far away to summon it, so Hermione modified this spell. When I needed to find Shevvie, I asked to hold a bracelet made from her hair and cast the spell to find her, and it worked.”

“Hermione found the spell, you say?” Kingsley asked with interest.

“Yeah, she's probably read every book in the Hogwarts library, so don't ask me which one it's in,” Harry said with a shrug.

“The only problem with that theory is that the spell is in English. That would make it a relatively recent invention, and as such, it would probably be a lot more well known. Could she have invented it for you?” Kingsley wondered.

Harry shrugged again. “I dunno, maybe. She's brilliant like that.”

“Which would explain how she was able to modify the spell,” Kingsley ruminated, stroking his chin. “As young Malfoy said, not everyone can create or modify spells. It takes an enormous amount of focus to set the parameters of a spell so that the, erm, universe – if you will – will accept it as a valid spell. Once it's accepted, then anyone can use it.”

“Oh,” Harry murmured in mild surprise. “I didn't know that.”

Draco snorted a bit derisively. “Why do you think we have to go to school to learn spells? If anyone could make them, then you wouldn't need to learn, you'd just point your wand at something and say something like: turn invisible; or: float.”

“Good point,” Harry admitted, wondering why he'd never thought of that before.

“Still, the fact that Granger created a spell back in our Fourth Year is a bit, erm...”

“Brilliant?” Harry asked pointedly. 

“I was going to say in character for little miss know-it-all, but yes,” Draco confirmed with a shrug.

Harry smirked at him, knowing that it probably actually stung his pride for Draco to admit that. Draco responded by glaring slightly at Harry. Then he sighed as if blowing out something aggravating.

“Oi, Potter, since you more or less blackmailed me into helping you yesterday, I'd like to propose an idea. What if I went with you to America and helped you find this missing man? That way, if you find yourself in need of someone with skills you don't have, I'll be right there. And in exchange, _you_ consider my life debt repaid.”

“I don't know about that, Malfoy,” Harry replied hesitantly. “Look, I'm sorry about using that against you – I normally don't mention or care if someone owes me their life, but I really thought you could save Beka, and you did, so I was right about that. This'll be totally different. It'll be tracking and surveillance. Things I'm sure would probably bore you.”

Draco shrugged. “So I'll be bored for a while. It's a small price to pay for the certain knowledge that you'll never again show up and force me to help you because I still owe you.”

Harry scoffed. “Yeah, but when you're bored, you're the biggest pain in the arse I've ever met!”

Draco tilted his head to the side and nodded to admit that it was true. “At least you know that  _you_ won't be bored.”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Alright Malfoy. Although, how much of your life debt is paid off will depend on what we have to do to solve the case. Oh! By the way, I told you that I'd give you my entire payment for the job yesterday – since you did all the work – and so that chest is now yours.”

“They _gave_ you that?!” Draco asked in astonishment. “That chest is priceless!”

“Yeah, it's over there,” Harry said, jabbing his thumb toward a corner of the room that Draco hadn't paid any attention to yet.

Forgetting that he was still rather hungry and had plenty of surprisingly delicious food left on his plate, Draco set his napkin aside and rushed over to look at the chest. He may have even shamefully exclaimed: “Ooo!” In his excitement. He dropped to his knees in front of the chest and immediately opened it up to stick his head inside.

“Er, Malfoy!” Harry blurted out in concern.

“What?” Draco asked as he looked back at Harry

Harry frowned in confusion. “Why didn't the chest suck you in?”

Draco rolled his eyes and sneered. “I  _fixed_ it, Potter. Obviously it works now.”

“Prat!” 

“Arse!” 

“Wan –” 

“Gentlemen!” Kingsley interrupted them before they could devolve into a shouted insult battle.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

Draco simply ignored them and stuck his head back in the chest. “ _Ooo_ ...” 

“Are you serious about bringing a former Death Eater with you on a mission where no one would even notice for quite some time if you disappeared?” Kingsley asked with a concerned frown.

Harry noticed Draco stiffen slightly out of the corner of his eye. He gave Kingsley a reassuring smile. “I know you may find this hard to believe, but I trust him. I don't think Malfoy would harm me.”

“Really?” Kingsley asked in skeptical disbelief.

Harry gave Kingsley a pointed look. “Both of us were given the task of killing an enemy, and only one of us was heartless enough to go through with it.”

“ _Harry_...” Kingsley murmured in sympathy. “You _had_ to kill him.”

“I know,” Harry murmured with a shrug. “I'm just saying that Draco has a good heart buried way down deep underneath layers of Malfoy superiority and sheer bratty entitlement.”

“Oi!” Draco protested, now glaring at Harry. “It's called culture and class, Potter!”

“It's called being a prick, Malfoy.”

“You're still as arrogant as ever, I see.”

“And you're _certain_ you want him to go with you?” Kingsley asked, still very much concerned.

“Positive,” Harry stated.

“Well alright,” Kingsley capitulated with a sigh. “I'll have a Portkey sent over within the hour, but for now, I really must leave.”

“I understand,” Harry murmured with a smile as he stood and shook the Minister's hand. “And thank you for bringing this case to my attention, Kingsley.”

“You're welcome, Harry. And good luck!”

 


	3. Harry and Draco Go To America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley had brought to Harry's attention a case that's located in America, so he and Draco go see if they can solve it. Because the case is not dire, things pop up to detour them on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMGs you guys, I'm so sorry! I decided to challenge myself by writing a character who goes against my normal motto for writing of tone down the swearing so that when I *do* use it, it has more impact. It occurred to me that I in real life - as do many people I know - swear rather a lot. Like a LOT. So I decided to write one character who has a mouth like a sailor on her. I also tried to be a little creative so that she's not just dropping the f bomb every other word, but even then, she's "real" - you know? So she's not trying to outdo herself with creativity every time she opens her mouth. She's just saying what comes to mind in a hopefully realistic way that just so happens to be full of swearing. So... be aware of that.
> 
> Also, since I couldn't work this into the story at all, the pronunciation for MagTech is like magnet tech, not like magic tech, even though it is *literally* meant to be a shortened version of magic tech, it's just that they can't risk breaking the statute, lol :-)

 

“Harry Potter! It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you!”

Only a tiny bit used to this sort of thing by now, Harry held out his hand. He was interested to note that the man greeting him was tall and broad shouldered with dark black skin and vibrantly white teeth. He looked damn good in a crisp black suit. They shook hands, the gorgeous black man patting him on the back as well.

“Thank you so much for coming. I'm Samuel Quahog, but you can call me Sam.”

“The _President_ of MACUSA?!” Harry asked in astonishment. He hadn't thought the President would greet him in person.

Sam grinned at him. “You really think I'd pass up the chance to meet Harry Potter?”

“Well, no, but I suppose I thought you'd have an assistant welcome me and bring me to you,” Harry murmured, feeling a bit awkward. He stepped a bit to the side and swept an arm out to indicate Draco. “This is Draco Malfoy. He'll be working with me.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well,” Sam said, shaking Draco's hand. To his credit, Draco took this in stride, neither haughty nor humble. Simply... polite. Maybe even a bit friendly.

Sam beckoned for them to follow him, giving a bit of a tour as they went. “This is the International Portkey Office, located at the top of the [Woolworth Building](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Woolworth_Building). There's a spot on the roof where you could fly in on a broom if you had to – along with a muggle helipad since we share the building with them – not that  _they_ know that. Over here is my office. I have a bit of paperwork for both of you to sign that will basically give you permission to work as Independent Consultants here in America. I've specifically worded it so that you'll have the authority to do all the same things you're authorized to do over in Britain.”

Draco raised a curious brow, but felt that it wasn't a good time to ask the obvious question. Harry noticed this and held up a hand asking Sam to wait a moment. Not used to anyone having the gall to be so informal with him, Sam couldn't help but smile even as he nodded.

“Sorry, I brought Malfoy with me because I thought he'd be able to help me, but this is only his second time working with me.” Harry turned to face Draco directly. “I'm authorized through the Ministry to do almost anything necessary in order to solve my cases. So, for example, when I went looking for Shevvie, I found her brainwashed and working in a brothel. I reported that to the Aurors, and then went undercover and participated in a raid on the brothel, thus freeing all the girls working there.”

Draco smirked at him. “Ah, hence the reason you Polyjuiced into her.”

Harry blushed just a little and looked away but nodded. Then he continued. “The only thing I'm not authorized to do is use deadly force unless I absolutely have to in order to save my life or protect someone.”

“That come up often?” Draco wondered curiously.

“Not so far, thank Merlin!” Harry exclaimed.

“Alright, so, _theoretically_ if you needed to Imperius someone to get them to behave while waiting for the Aurors to take them into custody...?” Draco asked, trying not to look too interested.

It was Sam who answered. “I don't know about over in Britain, but here in America, the use of the Unforgivable Curses in the defense of self, others, or personal property is the same as deadly force. It's acceptable if  _necessary_ , but you have to prove that it was necessary. For example, if someone cast the Killing Curse at you and you managed to avoid it and counter with an Imperius, that would be acceptable. That said, a Stupify would probably be easier.”

“Good to know,” Draco murmured.

“It's the same in Britain,” Harry added. “But that hasn't happened yet either. The majority of my cases are rather boring, and when they're exciting – like with the cursed hope chest – I'm usually not fighting duels with criminals.

“You thought that was exciting?” Draco asked in disbelief.

“Well not dueling the Dark Lord exciting, but yeah,” Harry confirmed with a shrug.

Draco raised a brow and smirked. “I was there for that and it wasn't all that exciting either. You two simply circled each other and chatted for  _ages_ and then each cast a single spell. If the fate of the entire world wasn't hanging in the balance, no one would have been impressed.”

Harry chuckled. “Well, that's certainly one way to look at it.”

By this point, they were not only in Sam's office, but also sitting around his desk. Sam set a small stack of papers in front of each of them. They turned out to be a list of things they were and were not allowed to do as Independent Consultants for MACUSA. There wasn't any information to fill in as their names had already been put on the forms practically the moment Kingsley had informed Sam that they were coming. Thus, all they had to do was sign the last page, and it was official.

A second document lay underneath the first. It was a simple agreement to pay them each 10 Dragots a day plus expenses. The paperwork even conveniently explained that there were three forms of Dragots – a 1, a ½, and a ¼; which was the equivalent of 20 muggle dollars, 10 dollars, and 5 dollars – for a total of 200 muggle dollars a day plus expenses. Which in turn was roughly 100 British Pounds, which was roughly 20 Galleons. Not really caring since they were being paid by the Ministry too, they simply signed the paperwork.

“Okay, so here's what I know. Rob – Robert Ward, CEO of MagTech – he's a brilliant wizard scientist. After graduating [Ilvermorny](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Ilvermorny_School_of_Witchcraft_and_Wizardry), he went to muggle college and earn a few degrees in technology, science, and engineering. He's also a little spacey, usually so focused on his work that he doesn't really pay attention to anything else. He's happy and makes working for MagTech fun. I honestly can't see him running off or stealing his technology. It really wouldn't make sense for him _to_ steal it. He's the CEO of the company, so he earns a lot of money off it. The current theory that he wanted to sell it to other companies for an enormous profit just doesn't make any sense to me. Our Aurors have obtained copies of his financial records, and both he and his company were doing really well. There was no need for him to sell out!” Sam ended in a frustrated roar.

Harry took the file Sam tossed onto his desk and looked through it. Noticing a curious look from Draco, he duplicated the file and handed the second one over. Draco took it and looked through it, determinedly  _not_ admitting that it was mostly gibberish to him. It had a description of the missing man, his home address, those financial statements, and a list of all the tech that was taken. The file also contained descriptions of each item and how it was supposed to work. 

He wasn't surprised that the tech was gibberish to him, it was the financials that surprised him. He was normally a  _genius_ at money, but the fact that this was all in American Dollars and Dragots was throwing him off. He promised himself that if it looked like it would take a while to find Robert Ward, he'd study up on American currency and decode these papers to his satisfaction. 

“Sir!” A woman burst out as she entered the office. “Oh, sorr – bend me over and fuck me dry! It's Harry Potter!!!”

Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. “Er... hi...”

Sam chuckled. “Harry Potter, meet Janice [Jauncey](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Mary_Jauncey) – Janice, yes, this is really Harry Potter. And his partner Draco Malfoy.

Janice looked positively star struck and had a hard time remembering how to speak. Sam nearly roared with laughter. He even bent over and pounded on his desk.

“You have _no idea_ how rare it is for Janice to be speechless! She's got quite the mouth on her!”

Janice glared at him. “Oh fuck off, sir. You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I think you might like this...” He paused for increased anticipation. “I'm assigning you and your partner to work with Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy.”

“ _Are you shitting me?!_ ” Janice asked with unrestrained glee. She didn't even wait for an answer before throwing her hands in the air and exclaiming. “Hell yeah! This has got to be my fucking reward for having the highest fucking solve rate in the entire goddamn department!”

“ _Our_ reward,” a tall and rather burly looking bald man of indeterminate ethnicity who was positively covered in tattoos reminded her with a wry grin. He pushed his way past her into the office. “Good morning, sir. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Good morning, Dwayne,” Sam greeted with a merry smile left over from Janice's speechlessness. “This is Dwayne [Roche](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Berthilde_Roche).” 

“Hi,” Harry murmured again, echoed by Draco, who wasn't quite sure whether to be jealous of the attention Harry was getting or not.

“Dwayne, Janice, the first thing I expect the two of you to do is take these two shopping for appropriate muggle clothes – which will be covered under expenses, I assure you,” Sam ordered, adding that last bit for Harry's benefit. “And don't worry, I've already sent a memo to your boss letting him know that you're reporting directly to me for the immediate future.”

“Fuck yeah!” Janice cheered. “What's a muggle?”

“It's what they call no-maj,” Dwayne answered, then shrugged. “My dad lived in London for a few years before he moved back to America, met my mother, and had me. He _always_ called them muggles, and I can totally see why.”

“Ah,” Janice stated in understanding.

“Last thing before I send you on your way,” Sam added, sliding a small folder across the desk to Harry. “I've booked you in the Governor's Suite at the hotel down the street. I suggest that after you finish your shopping, you take a look at the suite so that you're familiar with it if you have to Apparate in. The hotel is also a mix of magical and mundane, so unless you start casting really flashy spells and calling attention to yourselves, you should be fine with normal, everyday spells.”

“Good to know,” Harry murmured as he tucked the case file and the small folder containing a pair of key cards in the tiny pouch around his neck.

Janice grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come on! Let's get this fucking party  _started_ already! We can go to where Dwayne shops for his suits. If they have something that fits  _him_ they definitely have suits that'll fit you.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Dwayne asked with a frown as he followed Draco, who was following Harry, who was being dragged along rather energetically.

“Are you fucking serious?” Janice asked incredulously. “You're the hottest and most in shape person I know! But you'd have to have shit for brains if you didn't realize that you are a goddamn giant compared to the rest of us mere mortals.”

“Probably not,” Harry interjected awkwardly. “One of my dearest friends is a half giant, and he's 11 and a half feet tall. Not to mention his full giant brother – Grawp, who's considered a runt among his kind – is 16 feet tall.”

“Is that the giant that was at the Final Battle?” Draco asked, having long wondered where the seemingly random giant had come from. By this point, they had reached an elevator and were now headed a very long way down. Thankfully, a VIP button prevented it from stopping at every floor on the way. With 57 floors, that could take all day!

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “Hagrid brought him to live in the Forbidden Forest when he returned to his job in Fifth Year. Then he brought us into the Forbidden Forest to meet Grawp in case he was sacked by Umbridge. We were supposed to keep Grawp company from time to time if that happened. When Grawp first saw us, he thought we were toys. He actually picked Hermione up and bold as brass, she ordered him to put her down – which he did. He seemed to like her after that.”

Draco snorted in amusement. “Granger ordered a giant around and he just obeyed her? Somehow I can completely believe that.” He unconsciously rubbed his cheek.

Harry laughed. “Still stinging from where she slapped you, Malfoy?”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “You laugh, Potter, but she's a lot stronger than she looks.”

Harry laughed harder. “You think I don't know that?! Bloody hell! She saved me from Nagini – destroying half a house in the process – and snatched me from Voldemort's clutches before Apparating us away and healing me so that I didn't bleed to death. Without her, I'd've died for sure! Or actually, maybe I'd've become an Inferius. I'm not sure how that works, what with me being a Horcrux at the time. I'm going to have to ask her because it's going to bug me until I do!”

Draco was softly growling in displeasure even as Janice and Dwayne were staring at Harry with bug eyes. “ _Don't say his name_ , Potter!” He hissed.

“Voldemort,” Harry replied reflexively. He noticed all three of them flinch.

“Don't!” Draco insisted adamantly.

“Voldemort Voldemort Voldemort!” Harry chanted irreverently. “Why? What's going to happen if I say his name? Is the ground going to open up and swallow me whole? Is he going to come back from the dead so I can kick his arse around some more?”

“Nothing so dramatic, Potter, I'm simply going to hex your mouth shut and leave it that way until you kiss my feet in apology,” Draco ground out.

“I'd like to see you try, Malfoy,” Harry replied in amusement.

“Your arrogance continues to boggle the mind,” Draco muttered. 

“ _My arrogance?!_ ” Harry asked incredulously. 

“Oi, Potter, pull your head out of your arse and have some respect! _Not_ for the bloody Dark Lord – who was insane and deserved his fate – but for these poor Americans who are about to faint from the shock of hearing the V word said so bluntly!” Draco yelled. Unfortunately, the elevator reached the lobby just then and opened to reveal a group of people staring at them with looks that made it clear they were all wondering why someone would say the V word in public. Then again, it wasn't as vulgar as some other words.

As if proving the point, one woman even called out: “What's wrong with vaginas? I've got one.  _She's_ got one! Men usually  _love_ them!”

Draco blushed and covered his mouth with his right fist. Why oh why wouldn't the ground open up as Harry had suggested???

“Yep, vaginas are heavenly,” a man in a plain gray suit agreed. “But unless the pretty lady is going to let me eat hers all the way up to the 25th floor, I'd very much appreciate it if y'all got out and let me in.”

“Fuck you for being an asshole!” Janice told him off. Then shrugged. “And I'll keep that kinky fucking suggestion in mind the next time I see you about to get into the goddamn elevator.”

“Don't be stupid!” An older woman wearing a severe yet feminine suit exclaimed with a tone like she was telling off her employees. “Save that sort of thing for the bathrooms where there are no cameras and you're not as likely to get fired for public indecency.”

“Good point,” the man in the gray suit agreed, smacking Janice on the ass as she passed him on her way out of the elevator. Janice responded by promptly grabbing his wrist and using it to whirl him around and lock an arm around his neck while his arm was behind his back. 

“It's clear to me that you need to learn proper fucking manners and respect toward women. I'm going to find you when you least fucking expect it and teach them to you for as long as it takes for the lesson to sink into your shitty brain,” she promised in a soft growl.

“Kinky!” He replied with an unrepentant grin.

Harrumphing softly in both derision and amusement, she let him go with a push.

“Come on boys! We got some fucking _shopping_ to do!” She reminded them cheerfully now that her party was out of the elevator and the rest of the crowd was in it.

“My favorite tailor is a couple of blocks down the street on the left,” Dwayne informed her.

“What's wrong with what we're wearing,” Harry asked, relieved to have something other than vaginas and innuendos alluding to kink to talk about.

Janice turned to walk backwards as she looked him up and down. “Nothing. You're fucking hot! Both of you are, actually. It's just that you're wearing punk ass jeans and a sweet fucking Beetles tee shirt and he's wearing some shit that would look right the fuck at home in a fucking country club. If you want people to think you're serious as shit, you need to wear a sweet ass suit and maybe even some fucking dark as shit sunglasses.”

Dwayne laughed and shook his head. “This isn't Men in Black, Jan.”

Janice held her hands up and spread them a little apart as if illustrating a pair of glasses on Draco's face. “Yeah but come the fuck on! You can't tell me these two wouldn't look fucking hotter than the surface of the sun if they were wearing bomb ass black suits and shiny as fuck sunglasses.”

Dwayne laughed a bit harder. “You think everyone looks hot today! When's the last time you got laid?”

“Last night, I went to _town_ on this asshole I met in a club! Why?” Janice asked because she didn't quite catch the correlation. 

“Ooo! What'd he look like?” Dwayne asked with definite interest.

“Meh, so so. He was the same height as me with black hair and eyes. Brown skin because he was Mexican and you know how much I _love_ me some fucking hombres, but there was just something off about him.”

“Did he at least make you scream?” Dwayne wondered.

“ _No!_ ” Janice ground out petulantly. “I did all the work! I even had to cast a fucking orgasm denial spell on him so that I could get myself off before he fucking blew his load all over the place!”

“Er...” Harry murmured, blushing. “Is this really appropriate for Auror partners to discuss.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Janice assured him with a devilish grin. “Me and Dwayne talk about sex more than _any_ thing else we fucking discuss, and I'll have you know, we _kick ass_ when it comes to solving cases, so we talk about lots of other shit too, it's just sex is by far a funner fucking topic.”

“Jan and I also go to clubs and watch each other's backs when we want to hook up with someone. I mean, you saw her, she can definitely handle herself, but things can happen pretty easily once we get blind drunk, and so it's better for us to look out for each other.”

“And kick twice as much ass! Ha ha hahaha! Dwayne can be a _mean_ sonofabitch when he's drunk! Look at him wrong and he's likely to just punch you in the fucking face like a damn pussy!”

“You're talking about yourself there girlie,” Dwayne corrected her.

“Am I? Sometimes it's a fucking blur,” Janice admitted with a shrug.

Harry couldn't help but be curious. “So, er... have you ever shagged each other?”

Dwayne took this one since Janice looked mildly confused. “Yes and no. I'm bisexual, so I like men just as much as I like women, and in fact, the same is true for Jan. She'll rock a lady's world if she's in the mood. Anyway, since we do go out to clubs together so often, we'll sit and prowl, talking about who looks the best and whatnot. Occasionally we'll find someone that we both just have to have, and we'll go flirt with him or her. If he or she is into it, we'll bring 'em back to Jan's.”

“Why Jan's?” Harry asked because it just seemed like the thing to ask.

“I live with my parents and take care of them because my mom has cancer. So I can't really bring an orgy home with me. A discrete lover, sure, but not anyone who's as loud as Janice. But anyway, to answer your question, even though we've had sex with someone together, we've never actually had sex directly with each other.”

“God no!” Janice blurted out in mild horror. “That would be a bit like fucking my brother! I mean he's not, so I can stand to watch him fuck for hours, but directly, no... Although, since we've seen each other fuck, we know that if we ever did, it'd be hot enough to melt the fucking bed!”

“Agreed,” Dwayne said with a laugh. He then swerved abruptly and grabbed the handle to a door that said: Swinson's. “We're here.”

“Ah Mr. Roche! Good to see you again!” An older man cried out happily. He was tall and thin – almost too thin – with short silver hair and a matching short and well-groomed beard. He wore a rather posh navy blue suit that fit him perfectly.

“Good morning, Mr. Swinson. I've brought some important guests with me, so absolutely _no_ groping! Got it?”

“Certainly,” Swinson acknowledged with a pout. “I can keep my hands to – holy fucking hell! Harry Potter!”

“Erm...” Harry droned uncomfortably as suddenly, Swinson was practically all over him. He didn't touch Harry, but he examined the famous scar and ran a critical eye all over Harry's body.

“Green, yes... about 32 inches...broad but not too broad... nicely formed but rather thin... and an ass that I could stare at for days.”

“Pardon???” Harry blurted out in shock, edging a bit away from Swinson.

But Swinson had already moved onto Draco, who was watching the proceedings with amusement. He'd been quiet since the V word incident, but once he'd calmed down, he'd found Janice to be a bit like Pansy  _and_ Blaise rolled into one person and intensified. He also liked having the opportunity to look at Dwayne all he wanted without anyone noticing. The man had so many tattoos that it might take days to truly see them all! But now he eyed Swinson warily.

“Blue – light or dark, that's the real question. Hmm, 34 inches... narrow but not too narrow... _very_ nicely formed, _mmm_... Quality blood...”

“I _told_ you, Potter!” Draco stated smugly.

“My dad was a pureblood too, you poncy bastard,” Harry protested.

“Maybe he was, but he wasn't even part of the Sacred 28,” Draco pointed out haughtily. “And his parents were _new money..._ ” he drawled with a shudder.

“New money, old money, what's the difference? I have some of each,” Harry said with a baffled shrug. “Having inherited both the Potter _and_ the Black fortunes. I probably even have more money than you!”

Draco snorted dismissively, flapping his hand at Harry. “That's impossible, Potter, as the Malfoy fortune is without limit.”

“That right there is exactly what I was talking about when I said sheer bratty entitlement, Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed, flinging his hands out in frustration. 

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. “ _Class_ , Potter!”

“ _Class_ is being a decent bloke!” Harry roared with a decisive gesture.

“Ha! Your definition of decent is running around saving everyone like a bleeding heart Gryffindor,” Draco sneered. 

“Better than cold hearted Slytherin!”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“It is!”

“Then why are all the best people in Slytherin?”

Harry scoffed. “ _Worst_ people!”

“Name one,” Draco challenged with an expression of pure superiority.

“Snape! Your dad! Salazar Sodding Slytherin himself! _You!_ ”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Snape was secretly working for your side all along – which  _you_ told everyone at our trial. I was the worst Death Eater in history, also more or less secretly working on your side – which you  _also_ said at our trial. And Salazar Slytherin was up there in greatness with Merlin, as were the rest of the founders, so your argument is moot.”

“What about your dad?” Harry couldn't help but ask curiously.

Draco harrumphed and flapped his hand. “We can't  _all_ be great.”

Harry laughed so hard that he had to bend over and hold his sides.

“Besides, my mother was in Slytherin, and if you _dare_ say anything bad about her, I'll hex you so hard you'll be in St. Mungo's for a month,” Draco warned very seriously.

Harry held up his hands as if surrendering. “No worries, Malfoy. I owe your mum my life and am rather fond of her.”

Draco harrumphed, but before he could say anything else, Swinson gained their attention.

“Gentlemen, come take a look at these.” During their argument, he had been customizing previously made but intended to be modified suits. 

For Harry, he'd chosen a soft shade of black called charcoal, adding a very thin pin-striping in a darker shade of green that matched Harry's eyes. All the accents – including the tie and waistcoat – were green. All in all, it looked good and like something Harry'd actually wear.

For Draco, he chose a gray that matched his eyes. Over that, he layered 1/8 th inch thick stripes in light blue and dark blue – both of which were edged and highlighted with a thread of black. His waistcoat was light blue, his tie was dark blue, and his shoes were black. Draco was rather impressed that a complete stranger was able to create something he liked so quickly.

“Put them on so I can finalize the fit,” Swinson urged. They each followed their suits into separate fitting rooms.

Draco was naturally done first as he always used spells to get dressed or undressed. He stepped out and held his arms off to his sides to let Swinson fuss over him. He was long used to tailors and seamstresses as he almost exclusively bought custom made clothes. When Swinson finished, Draco flexed and moved his body to see how the suit was in action. With a nod, he pronounced it just right even as he cast a spell to replace the plain brass cuff-links with his favorite silver ones embossed with the Malfoy crest. He also added his family heirloom pocket watch and a subtle little Slytherin tie pin. Then he frowned.

“Oi, Potter, what's taking so long? Did you get lost in there?”

“How can you be done already? I'm still buttoning up my shirt!”

“Are you a blithering idiot?! Did you forget you're a wizard? Just cast the bloody dressing spells!”

“Dressing spells?” Harry asked, having never heard of them before.

“Are you trying to tell me that _none_ of your weasels taught you basic buggering dressing spells???” Draco asked incredulously.

“Nope, and not even Hermione told me about them, and as we already established, she's probably read just about every book in the Hogwarts library,” Harry stated, sounding like he was paying close attention to something other than the conversation. Which he was; his buttons.

“Huh... I learned them from my mother before I was even old enough to buy my first wand. I'd think that with seven kids, Mrs. Weasley would have been a _master_ at the dressing spells,” Draco mused.

Harry snorted in amusement. “Probably didn't want to risk Fred and George learning them! Merlin only knows what they'd've done with 'em!”

“I imagine the Gryffindor common room would have been rather dangerous after curfew,” Draco theorized with a smirk.

“Oh it was!” Harry assured him. “We had to learn reckless bravery somehow after all.”

“Ha!” Draco exalted. “Ours was too since Snape set about a hundred clever traps to prevent us from leaving our dorms after curfew. We had to become masters at cunning and trickery if we wanted to break any rules.”

“That explains so much,” Harry stated pensively.

Draco sighed impatiently. “Do you at least have your shirt on enough to be decent?”

“Yeah...”

“Then get your arse out here and let me teach you the buggering spells!”

A moment later, Harry emerged from the dressing room wearing the trousers, the crisp white button up shirt, the green tie slung around his neck but not yet even partially done, and his waistcoat about half buttoned. He looked disconcertingly sexy (especially with that messy hair) and Draco had to hold his breath to prevent a groan of longing from escaping him.

“Amictus Vestimenta!” Draco cast briskly on Harry, making the waistcoat finish buttoning itself, the tie fix itself, and the suit jacket fly onto Harry before buttoning itself too.

“Handy,” Harry pronounced with an impressed nod. Swinson promptly made any necessary adjustments to the fit.

“Hell yeah it is!” Janice agreed. “Maybe that's a snooty blueblood spell, because I didn't fucking know it either!” Then she tilted her head to the side and grinned knowingly at Draco. “What's the spell to take them off.” 

Draco raised a brow and looked at her warily. “I'll only tell you if you promise to wait to try using it until you are nowhere  _near_ me.”

“Are you fucking saying I'm ugly as shit?” Janice demanded in a clearly offended tone.

“No, I'm saying I don't trust you as far as I can spit to not use the spell on me,” Draco corrected her frostily.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, good call. Alright, I promise,” she said, holding her right hand up and covering her heart with her other.”

“Depone Vestimenta,” Draco informed her. “The spell will make them intangible so that they float off you and over to the nearest chair or other piece of furniture – or clothes bin if you're standing next to one.

“Fuck yeah! I know _exactly_ what I'm going to do the next time my shithead cousin Bobby throws one of his wild ass parties!” Janice exclaimed in glee.

“Do you not like your cousin,” Harry asked in confusion, although he could completely understand not liking one's cousin.

“Who, Bobby? He's the fucking bomb! Why do you ask?” Janice wondered with a confused frown.

“You called him a shithead,” Harry reminded her.

“Well he is!” Janice stated with a look like this should be obvious to everyone.

“Alright,” Harry murmured with a soft chuckle.

“We should probably get going,” Dwayne said even as he paid for the suits with a MACUSA credit card – since the muggle invention was so useful that it didn't make sense _not_ to use them.

“Can I get a copy of that receipt?” Harry asked.

“Sure thing, Mr. Potter,” Swinson assured him.

Harry tucked the receipt in his pouch as he followed Dwayne and Janice. Draco followed him, glad that he had an excuse to let his eyes roam up and down Harry's back. The boy-who-lived looked surprisingly good in a suit. And those trousers did fabulous things for his arse!

“Alright there Malfoy?” Harry asked a couple minutes later.

“Hmm?” Draco asked, looking up to realize that he'd actually been staring at Harry's shiny black shoes as they walked because his mind had suddenly become overrun with fantasies. Fantasies involving very slowly taking that suit off one piece at a time.

“You look lost in thought,” Harry informed him.

“Oh... yeah... just wondering what I should buy my mother as a souvenir...” Draco lied.

“Somehow I don't think she'd go for an I ♥ NY shirt,” Harry said with a fond smile.

“Definitely not,” Draco agreed. He frowned as he noticed Janice and Dwayne join the end of a rather long queue. “Er... weren't we supposed to go see the hotel?”

“Hold onto your sexy as fuck pants, sweetcheeks,” Janice ordered him flippantly. “I don't know what fucking time it is in Britain, but here, it's past my fucking lunch time and I get crankier than an asshole bear if I don't get some shit to eat regularly.”

“She does,” Dwayne confirmed with a solemn nod. “Plus she might just light someone on fire if she doesn't get her coffee every two hours on the dot.”

“You bet your sweet ass I will!” Janice confirmed.

The woman in front of them in the queue was a tall black woman with a beautiful halo of bushy hair just barely restrained by some sort of lacy ribbon. She was wearing a gorgeous lilac dress and looked like a teacher or a librarian. She gave Janice a stern look.

“I'm warning you now, if you dare set me on fire, I'll have your ass in court so fast that your head'll spin right off your skinny bitch neck!”

“Oh shut the fuck up! We weren't even talking to you!” Janice told her off.

“No you fuck off! I was just standing here minding my own business when I heard that my life might be in danger just because I'm between you and Sol!”

“Hi Sol!” Janice, Dwayne, the woman, and everyone else in the line except for Harry and Draco called out cheerfully.

“Oi, what's the ruckus all about?” Sol called out from where he was standing behind his food cart.

“This bitch is threatening my life, Sol!” The woman answered.

“Oi-vey! Look, I know you're all hungry and irritable, but stop your kvetching! I'm working as fast as I can here!”

“Sorry Sol!” Janice apologized a bit sheepishly. “It's not _my_ fault a bitch can't keep her nose to herself!”

“Those are fucking fighting words!” She roared as pulled her bag off her shoulder and threw it to the ground.

“You think you can fucking take me?!” Janice challenged, her arms spread wide in an invitation to brawl. 

“Er...” Harry droned, exchanging an incredulous glance with Draco. “Shouldn't we stop them?”

“Nah,” Dwayne denied with a shake of his head.

“ _Ladies_! I have a strict no brawling rule in my line! If you can't calm the fuck down and act like adults, I'm going to have to ask you to find some other place to eat! _Permanently_!”

“Sorry Sol...” Both women grumbled contritely. 

The Librarian or teacher held up her hands as if surrendering. “Just step off and we'll have no problems.”

At this point, a man about halfway between Harry and Sol growled in frustration. “Just shut the fuck up already or I'll stab you in the back myself!”

“Fuck you! _You_ shut up!”

“No, fuck you!” 

“No fuck you!” 

To Harry's astonishment, this continued and escalated until nearly everyone in line was telling each other to go fuck themselves. He tilted his head and leaned over until he was able to whisper in Draco's ear. “Americans are bloody mental.”

Draco nodded in agreement. Not even a heated argument in the Slytherin common room got quite so crude. Oh sure, they'd try to outdo each other for creativity, but never this.

Sol's daughter prudently filled up a tray full of tall paper travel mugs with their special house blend. Then she walked down the line and handed out coffee to anyone who wanted it, making sure they knew that they'd be paying for it when they reached the front of the line. Everyone fell silent as they drank, most devolving into happy sighs.

“So how's your little girl?” Stabby asked the Librarian or teacher once his coffee had a chance to reboot his manners.

“Oh, you know, cute as a button. She's got dance class tonight.”

“That's fun. My boy is turning three this weekend and my wife's driving me crazy with all the party planning she's doing. It's not like he's going to remember if she hires clowns and a bouncy house.”

“That sounds fun,” another woman remarked. “You know, he may not remember it when he's an adult, by my kids still ask me for the pony they got to ride for their third and fourth birthdays.”

“That may be, but it also means that I have to work overtime to afford the party.”

“Such is life,” Sol weighed in sagely. “Do what you can now, no matter how little, or risk your kids thinking you don't love them.”

“It's the little things that count,” another man added with a nod of agreement. “I made the mistake of focusing on work, and now my teenaged daughter is pregnant and her so called boyfriend is a punk drug dealer.”

“That's rough,” Stabby commiserated.

“Oh! Here's my card. I'm a social worker, and if you can convince your daughter to come see me, I can help her prepare for the baby and also work toward a position of strength so that she isn't dependent on a drug dealer,” the woman that looked like a librarian said.

“Thanks, I'll talk to her about. Of course, I'll have to focus on the help with the baby part and forget to mention the rest.”

Everyone chuckled at that.

Janice handed him a card too. “Here, when you get a chance, 'anonymously' give me that boy's name, and I'll send a friend I trust over to arrest him just enough to scare him. Maybe it's not too late to help him make better choices.”

“The last thing I need is for my grandchild's dad to be in prison.”

Janice shook her head. “No, I promise. This buddy of mine isn't like that. He's a good man who just wants to help. Just think about it.”

“Alright,” he said noncommittally.

“There now, see? Isn't it better when we all help each other out?” Sol asked in a rather grandfatherly way, despite being in his late thirties.

“Yes Sol,” everyone muttered, except for Harry and Draco.

The queue was actually moving rather quickly now since brains were awake again and people had either their credit card or exact change on hand. They'd accept their fabulous handmade sausages on fresh baked sourdough buns, step to the side to load up with their favorite fixings, pay his daughter, and then leave, wishing everyone else a good day.

“I'll take two,” Janice stated. She promptly carried the paper plate he gave her to the side where she loaded them both with sauerkraut and mayo. “Sol has the best fucking sauerkraut in all of New York!”

“I make it myself,” Sol added proudly as he gave Dwayne the four sausages he ordered. “Fermented using garden fresh cabbage, onions, garlic, and dill. It's to _die_ for!”

“He actually makes everything you see here,” Dwayne explained. “Which makes him an unexpected gem. His ketchup is so fresh you can taste it.”

“There's also salsa in several intensities of spiciness, or you could choose between diced raw onions and onions fried in butter,” Sol informed them.

“Er... I'll take two,” Harry said since he actually really loved sausages and handmade food in general. He stepped to the side and added a tiny pinch of sauerkraut to his plate so that he could taste it. “This is fantastic!”

“I fucking _told_ you!” Janice reminded him.

Harry put a little bit of everything on his plate to try – as he ate the sausages, not while standing there. As he did, Draco shrugged and ordered two sausages as well. Once again, Dwayne payed for their food with the MACUSA card, and once again, Harry asked for a receipt.

As they walked away – both Harry and Draco a little surprised that they were expected to eat as they walked – Dwayne smirked at Harry. “Any particular reason you want all the receipts?”

“Well, as much as I'm loving the fact that you're paying for everything, I'm still getting reimbursed for all expenses by my Ministry, and I'm not so stupid as to pass that up!”

Dwayne roared with laughter even as Janice giggled despite a full mouth.

“That's fucking inspiring in it's sheer shit eating brilliance!”

Harry raised a brow at her. “Shit eating brilliance?”

“Fuck yeah!”

Shaking his head and chuckling, Harry let it go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, in this chapter, I swear I was *not* trying to stereotype any one group of people. So I wasn't trying to say that *New Yorkers* are all like this. I was just honestly trying to make Americans in general rather cracky in this chapter as a big culture shock for Harry and Draco. I really hope I didn't offend anyone, and please note that I myself am American, so I feel I have a tiny bit of a right to make us sound like absolute nutters for a story, lol.  
> Plus, actually, I was trying to stereotype *coffee drinkers* as nutters, lol :-D
> 
> And the V-word bit cracked me up for days!  
> As a side note, when I told my hubby that I was cracking up because I had Harry automatically say: "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!" He suggested that I should have wrote a very faint ghost like thing of Voldemort in the background looking very dirty and wearing black and white stripes, lololol!


	4. In Which Harry and Draco Meet Elliot and Receive Lightsabers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once ready, Harry and Draco are brought to MagTech to ask around about the missing man and the experience is a bit shocking for Harry (and Draco, but he doesn't say anything about it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still feel like I should apologize for Janice's mouth, lol.

 

The hotel was nearly as tall as the MACUSA building! It was also pretty posh. Even Draco looked mildly impressed.

Once in the Lobby, Harry looked around. “Any idea where the Governor's Suite is?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Janice asked, also looking around in awe. “Do I look like I can fucking afford to stay here?”

Dwayne shook his head in denial. “I've never been here before either.”

“Alright,” Harry murmured, squaring his shoulders and walking up to the check in desk where a gorgeous woman in a business suit uniform waited to greet them.

“Hello, welcome to the [Millennium Hilton](http://www3.hilton.com/en/hotels/new-york/millennium-hilton-new-york-downtown-NYCMLHH/index.html). How can I help you today?”

Harry had fortunately pulled the small envelope containing his key cards out of his pouch as they entered the hotel. He held the envelope up and showed her the cards. “We're checked into the Governor's Suite. Can you tell us how to get there?”

“Sure thing!” She consulted her computer a moment. “Can you just verify your names?”

“Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.”

“Perfect! Just take the elevators over to your right – my left – and press the button for floor 55.”

Harry goggled a bit incredulously, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the 55 th  floor from here.

“Oh dear, looks like you're afraid of heights.”

“No!” Harry blurted out, shaking his head. “I just wasn't expecting that.”

“Okay then. Well, please enjoy your stay.”

“Right,” Harry murmured, following as Dwayne led them over to the elevator. Once inside, Harry leaned back and gripped the hand rail so hard his hands turned white. “I've got no idea why, but going up in a tiny lift is so much more nerve wracking than going down was. Or even flying on a broom! I _love_ flying on my broom.”

“Which broom do you have?” Dwayne asked in an attempt to sooth Harry's nervousness.

“A Firebolt. My godfather gave it to me back in my Third Year, so it's about six years old now, but it's still the best broom I've ever ridden.”

“Fuck! I'd love to take it for a spin! Any chance you'd let me borrow it for a bit? I'll fucking blow you like high paid porn star if you do!”

Harry blushed, holding his hands up and waving them back and forth. “Erm... That's alright, I mean, that's not necessary. If there's time, I'd be happy to let you ride it for a bit.”

“ _Oh really_ ,” Janice purred flirtily, rubbing a hand on Harry's chest.

“Erm, er, ah, er,” Harry stammered, now highly uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with the elevator.

“No fair, I want a turn too!” Dwayne protested with a pout.

“Eh, er, th-th-the broom, or...?” Harry was flustered and sincerely wished he could just Apparate the rest of the way so that he wasn't trapped in a lift with two people who apparently wanted to shag him dirty rotten. The idea wasn't exactly horrible, just extremely sudden and he'd like some time and privacy to think it over in.

“Both, if you're up for it,” Dwayne informed him with a wink.

“Ooo! Fuck! _That'd_ be the hottest thing I've ever seen!” Janice nearly squealed.

Harry felt full blown panic coming to get him until Draco started sniggering so hard it wouldn't be surprising if his nose started to bleed. “Wanker!”

Still laughing, Draco shrugged. “You should see yourself! You look like you're about to try jumping through the wall of the lift!”

“I can usually handle small spaces, but every once in a while, I... can't...” Harry admitted reluctantly.

“Oh fuck! I'm sorry! Shit! I feel like such a bitch now!” Janice blurted out as she took a full three steps back and gave Harry his space – as much as she could.

“So close your eyes and tell me more about your broom,” Dwayne suggested. He and Janice stood in the opposite corner from Harry while Draco stood in the corner next to him on the long side of the little rectangle.

Closing his eyes, Harry took a deep breath and pictured flying. A tiny smile crumpled his lips. “My favorite memories are of playing Quidditch. Once on my broom, high above the Quidditch Pitch, I'd just take a moment to soar. With the wind in my hair, I'd feel free. I used to think I'd be a professional player when I grew up, but then I got so sick of fame that I wouldn't play Quidditch professionally if it was the only way to save my life. Well, _maybe_ if I had to save my life. Granted, being famous for catching the snitch is by far better than _well_... But no thank you. I almost wish I could simply cast a spell to make everyone just forget about me.”

Maybe they had phenomenal luck, or maybe there just weren't any guests needing to go from one floor _up_ to another, but the elevator didn't make any stops and had now arrived at the top floor. Harry sighed in relief when he felt the lift stop moving and heard the doors open. Opening his eyes, he smiled reassuringly at his companions.

“I'll be fine now.”

Without a word, the tetrad walked down the hall and entered the [Governor's Suite.](https://www.google.com/maps/@40.711034,-74.0096473,2a,82.2y,170.02h,69.89t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sB3zA_47olOQAAAQYbws3LQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656) The door opened to reveal a small hallway with a closet for their coats – if they had any. Straight ahead was the Master bedroom. It had a full and rather posh bathroom with a tub and a separate shower overlooking the city. The bed was big enough for even someone as tall as Dwayne or Draco (who were 6'6” and 6'2” respectively).

“This room's mine, Potter, and don't bother arguing or I'll hex you blind and then petrify you so that you can be propped up in the corner.”

Harry snorted in amusement. “Alright, Malfoy. I don't care where I sleep – I'd sleep on the sofa if I had to.”

“Good!” Draco stated smugly.

The bed was tucked into the left hand corner of the bedroom, and also overlooked the city. The bedroom itself was spacious, having a telly, a loveseat, and a desk with an office chair. Off to the right of the bed (if you were sitting on it facing the telly) was another small hallway that connected to the living room area of the suite – which had a small loo and a mini bar tucked into the hallway, for some reason. The living room had a six person table on the left, a sofa right directly in front of the hallway, which faced another telly and had a coffee table and two armchairs with it. There was also a desk-like table with a chair that was a cross between a basic functional chair and an armchair.

To the right of the mini hallway from the Master bedroom – across the living room – was a door leading to the other bedroom. When facing the door, there was another small hallway on the right that led back to the original hallway in the entrance, which had a tiny but full service kitchen tucked into it. But going through the door to the second bedroom, the room was smaller, and yet still had its own full bathroom. The bathroom didn't have windows or a view, but that didn't matter. With a shrug, Harry supposed that if he and Draco were here for a while, they wouldn't have to worry about invading each other's privacy.

The bed was the same size as the one in the Master bedroom, making the room look a bit cramped, and there was a bench to sit on when dressing, right next to the bathroom. Other than that, there was only a chair and an enormous telly. Well, and two bedside tables (same as the Master bedroom), but who ever really thought about them?

“This place is nice,” Harry said with a suitably impressed nod.

“It's a little smaller than my bedroom, but since it's better than the dormitory I grew up in in Hogwarts, I can live with it,” Draco informed them.

Harry turned to give him a disbelieving look. “Just how big is your bedroom?”

“I _just_ said,” Draco sneered. “It's a little bigger than this suite. There're no halls or walls, so it feels even more spacious. I have an area for my bed, and area for armchairs before the fire, a small library/study area, a dinning area if I should happen to invite my friends over for lunch, and an empty area where I practice my spells or exercise when I'm in the mood. Plus a lovely spot where my piano sits.”

Harry was now looking at Draco like he was the world's biggest prat.

“What?” Draco asked defensively.

“My bedroom is only a little bigger than the Master bedroom over there!”

“I can't help it if you're too stupid to realize that you can afford a bigger house, Potter.”

Harry made a sound of disgust. “My house is huge! I've got like a dozen bedrooms, and I'm in the Master room. My _point_ is that a bedroom is for _sleeping_ , Malfoy, so what the hell do you need so much space for?”

“It's for _living_ in, Potter. It's a refuge. A place no one else is ever allowed to be unless I let them.”

“So... like when you want to hide from your dad?” Harry asked in confusion.

Draco rolled his eyes. “No, _moron_. Like when I had the buggering Dark Lord and my insane aunt Bella living in my house!”

Harry snorted a laugh. “I can't picture Voldemort knocking politely on the door: 'oh Draco, my boy, your mum wants to know if you'd like to join us for a spot of tea.' Did he extend his little finger when he held the cup?” Harry mimed exactly that.

Draco couldn't help but laugh at that. “As a matter of fact, he did. He was a proper British gentleman, after all. And don't be stupid! The Dark Lord would never summon a person like a servant. That's what house elves are for.”

“Oh hey, that reminds me, can I summon my house elf from here?” Harry wondered.

Draco shrugged. “You probably could, but I wouldn't recommend it. I think he'd probably fall out of the Apparation halfway across the ocean and drown.”

“Good to know!” Harry exclaimed, extremely glad that he hadn't tried it without asking. He then pointed to the area in the living room between the armchairs and the telly. “This is where I'm going to visualize if I need to Apparate here.”

Draco nodded in understanding. “Alright, I'll visualize right there.” He pointed next to the sofa.

“Alright then, if we're all set, we should probably get going,” Harry suggested.

Janice held out her hand. “Unlike the fucking Woolworth building – which has damn inconvenient Anti-Apparation wards around it, except for a few designated spots – this place doesn't. So, I can Apparate you to MagTech, if you'd like to avoid another long ass elevator ride.”

Harry didn't have to think about this for more than a second to realize that the elevator would probably stop a lot more on the way back down since other guests would be more likely to need a ride down than up. “Er, brilliant.”

He took her hand as Draco took Dwayne's. Personally, Draco wouldn't have minded another lengthy ride in the lift with just Dwayne, but since that was unlikely, he took the opportunity to study the tattoo on Dwayne's neck. Just before they Apparated, both Janice and Dwayne silently cast spells on their plain clothes – a blouse and a skirt for Janice and track pants and a muscle shirt for Dwayne – to transfigure them into more appropriate business suits.

After that, they were in the lobby of a different building. This one appeared to be a lot shorter but much wider. A look out the windows also proved that they probably weren't in downtown Manhattan anymore either. Possibly not even in NYC at all. Dwayne stepped over to the receptionist.

“We're here at Mr. Quahog's request to see Elliot Ward.”

“One moment please, I'll see if Mr. Ward is in his office.”

In the background, Harry heard someone spit out their drink and someone else fall out of their chair. The one on the ground scrambled to his hands and knees and crawled over to the one wiping his mouth. They both whispered: “Is that Harry Potter???” And then: “Fuck, I think that's Harry Potter!”

Harry tried his best to keep looking at the receptionist as if he hadn't heard them. However, the way he was standing, they were off to his right and had a good look at his scar, so there wouldn't be much point in trying to hide it. Even so, he was tempted to smooth his hair out. Not that it ever obeyed him for long. Draco wasn't helping in the slightest with his quiet snickering.

A couple other people walked over to the first two and crouched down to whisper: “Who's Harry Potter?”

“He's frickin' famous!”

“What for?”

“Uh... that's part of the classified information we're not allowed to tell you.”

“Fuck that! I've got level one security clearance.”

“Same here.”

“Oh, well in that case, Harry Potter defeated a seriously evil dude and basically saved the world. He's like Luke Skywalker.”

“ _Seriously_???”

“That's fucking awesome!”

“Who in the buggering hell is Luke Skywalker?” Draco whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry chuckled. “A fictional character from a series of movies called Star Wars.”

“Have you seen Episode One?” Janice asked curiously.

“I actually did,” Harry replied with a nod and a shrug. “Hermione was rather excited to see it, forcing Ron and I to watch all the old movies the weekend before it came out.”

“I fucking loved and _hated_ that movie!” Janice exclaimed.

“Yeah, Jar Jar was _weird_ ,” Harry agreed.

Draco decided to simply keep his mouth shut and ask Harry was a movie was later on.

The secretary hung up the phone and smiled at them. “Mr. Ward will be right –” She didn't even have a chance to finish before a man roughly the same age as Harry and Draco popped into the lobby.

“Oh my God oh my God!” He squealed, jumping up and down excitedly. “I didn't fucking _believe_ Sam when he said that _Harry Potter_ was coming here! Come on come on come on! Follow me, I'll show you around. Oh! Hold on a moment,” he stopped his weird hopping and cleared his throat before casting a Sonorus on his throat. “Any employee who wants a chance to see Harry Potter for a minute better get to the cafeteria before we do!” He ended the Sonorus. “There! That'll prevent half my employees from dropping things and blurting out your name when they see you. You can wave once or twice and then we can move on, and bonus, no one will be in our way during the tour. Come on, can I get you anything? We have Coke products here, but other than that, we have just about everything else: Snapple, GT's Kombucha, Sweet Tea, _not_ sweet tea, coffee – oh! I've got a variety of fair trade and organic coffees from around the world. Some of them are _to die for!_ There's also bottled water and –”

Janice cut him off. “Dude! Stop being a fucking motor mouth and let us answer already. I personally would _love_ to taste all your coffee.”

“I'll take a bottle of water,” Dwayne added.

“Depends on the tea,” Harry stated with a shrug.

“Yeah, depends on the tea,” Draco agreed, trying to ignore the mild shock on Harry's face that Draco agreed with him on anything.

“Good thing we're going to the cafeteria then!” Elliot replied with a grin. “It's practically an all you can eat buffet in there. We feel that taking care of our employees and keeping them happy makes for a better work environment and increased productivity. We also have paid half hour breaks rather than the legally mandated fifteen minutes, and a _paid_ hour long lunch. Some of our best ideas have come from brainstorming and just generally fucking around when on break.”

He paused only long enough to take a breath. “Rob's a genius! He understands that if our employees play together – platonically, for the most part – then they'll be able to work together to come up with brilliant ideas. So, as you can see, over here, we have a room where our no-maj employees who don't yet have the clearance to know about our kind work testing products. Getting clearance is really hard since MACUSA is very protective, but once they have it, they're treated just like our other employees. It may not make sense to you, but for a company dedicated to integrating no-maj technology with wizarding, it's _vital_ that we all work together. The company is actually under a strong Fidelius Charm so that no one – no-maj nor wizard – can talk about what we do here. Thus, no-maj employees can't even tell their friends and relatives about magic. Any employee that quits or is fired has their memory modified and remains under Fidelius.”

“Dude!” Janice cut him off again. “Take a fucking breath!”

Elliot flicked his wrist to point at her. “Right! Rob's always telling me stop drinking coffee, but I have ADHD, so coffee ironically calms me down. Over here, well, the room's empty now, but we play basketball and other such games in here. We actually duplicated that game from Star Trek – you know the one where they bounce the ball off the walls?”

“Racquetball?” Janice questioned with a look of disbelief.

“Yeah, that one!” Elliot exclaimed giddily.

“Racquetball is a popular no-maj game,” Janice pointed out, looking at him like he was stupid. “It's fucking played around the entire goddamn country!” Which she knew because she was born to no-maj parents and they'd taken her to the YMCA to play when she was growing up. Before she got accepted into Ilvermorny and they all found out she was a witch.

“Yeah, but _we_ made it glow and kick ass like on Star Trek!” Elliot informed her with a grin.

“Cool,” Janice admitted with a mildly impressed nod.

“Moving on, we finally reach the cafeteria,” Elliot announced. He led them into a rather large and yet crowded room that had lots of smaller tables to sit at while eating and a few long tables off to one side laden with food. Sure enough, _other_ tables had an astonishing variety of drinks on them. But before they got to that, he swept his hand out to indicate everyone in the room. “Beloved employees of MagTech, I'm giddy as fuck to introduce you to the one and only _Harry Potter_!!!”

The crowd clearly had no shame when it came to cheering, clapping, squealing, and just generally acting like a bunch of fools. A couple of women even timed it so that when Harry looked their way, they flashed him. Harry was _so not_ used to this sort of behavior.

“Er... is that allowed?” He asked Elliot, pointing to one of the women showing him her impressively round and soft looking breasts.

“Why not?” Elliot asked with a shrug. “We're a little progressive here. Rather than have any sort of restricting dress code, we let everyone wear whatever they feel will best spark their creativity. Which means that if someone – male or female – feels most comfortable topless, and in the rare case, completely naked, it's fine. So long as they remember that nudity is not the same as consent, that consent is required for any and all non-platonic play, and that sexual harassment – actually, harassment of any kind – will result immediate termination. I mean being fired, not,” he drew a line across his neck. “Judgment Day termination.”

As he was babbling yet again, the crowd was doing it's best to get Harry's attention. “Harry, over here!” “Harry, will you sign my chocolate frog card?” “Harry, can I shake your hand?” “Harry, will you sign my tits?” “Harry, can I grope your ass?”

“ _What sort of place is this?_ ” Harry asked in incredulous disbelief.

Elliot roared with laughter. “We hire a _lot_ of people who are passionate about the things they like. You think this is bad, you should have been here the time we invited Carrie Fisher to come visit. Some of the guys were practically kissing her feet before she took charge. Man! She's not a shy one, that Princess! She stepped right into her role and started ordering everyone around. We all had a blast!”

“Ordering, hmm...” Harry murmured softly, biting his lip in thought for a moment. Then he held up his hands. “Alright everyone, settle down! I'm not here to sign things or shake hands, sorry. I'm actually here to investigate Robert Ward's disappearance. If you have any sort of _legitimate_ information that can help me find him, then please speak up. Otherwise, I really need to get to work.”

As if by magic, the clamoring stopped instantly, but rather than be upset with Harry for not signing things, they seemed happy that he was here to work. With smiles to assure him that they weren't mad, they shook their heads and otherwise indicated that they had no useful information.

Nodding as if he had expected this, Elliot gestured to the buffet. “If you're hungry, eat anything you like. Also, Auror Jauncey, let me show you the coffee.”

“Fuck yeah!” Janice cheered, following him like an eager puppy.

“We have containers of fresh whole beans,” Elliot explained with a sweeping gesture. “Once you find a variety you like, pour a scoop into the grinder, which'll make a single serving. A _large_ serving, fret not. From there, you can put the grounds in the [Gevalia pots](http://www.buffaloecreek.com/ebay/images/42819.JPG). They're sweet as hell, making a single serving directly into the cup of your choice.”

He showed her how to operate the machine that had two sides that could be used separately. It was otherwise normal, except that it required a smaller paper filter to accommodate the smaller load. Already following directions, Janice set her now empty paper travel mug from Sol's in the left side of the coffee maker, while Elliot set his favorite tall ceramic mug in the right side.

Meanwhile, Dwayne took advantage of the smoothie maker. Harry and Draco inspected the large variety of specialty teas. Some were herbal, some were green, some were black, and some were organic. Harry decided to try a relatively safe sounding organic English Breakfast.

“Ooo! They have Jasmine Gold Dragon tea!” Draco exclaimed in delight. “I didn't think they would.”

“What's that?” Harry asked curiously.

“It's a blend of green tea and jasmine petals,” Draco explained with a shrug. “My mother used to transfigure a Galleon into a tiny dragon to fly around for my entertainment while I drank this.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry murmured, firmly _not_ wishing that he'd had a happier childhood.

Once they all had their favorite drinks in hand, Elliot led them out of the cafeteria, Dwayne grabbing a large hoagie containing several meats and cheese to eat as they walked.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Janice burst out when she saw that. “You _just_ ate!”

Dwayne grinned sheepishly. “ _What?_ I'm a growing boy!”

Janice snorted. “Pfft! If you grow any fucking taller, you'll have to bend over just to walk through the goddamn doors!”

“Meh,” Dwayne muttered with a careless shrug.

Harry and his companions spent the next two hours touring the company, with Elliot jabbering on and on about all their different products, having employees give demonstrations, and shoving their pockets full to bursting with samples of everything they had. Such as:

“This is a never ending quill and gel pen all in one! It comes in any color you like, and the ink is that super smooth gel ink that the no-maj just love, but you can click this button to have it as a quill, or you can have it as an ergonomically designed pen! And This! This is designed after something the no-maj call a pager! But it's _so much_ better! Just write anything you want on this seemingly ordinary piece of parchment with your finger – remember to tell it _who_ you want it to go to – and boom! So long as the other person has one too, instant owl! Hahaha!”

After a while, Harry had to wonder why Elliot wasn't more concerned that his brother was missing. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to get a word in edgewise. But then Elliot inadvertently answered his question.

“Rob's such a stinker for leaving like he did! I mean I know he was working himself to death, but that was no reason for him to just run off! He could've taken like a month of vacation and none of us would've argued! He's not only the CEO, but he really is the owner of the company, holding the majority of the shares. It's not like anyone would've or could've fired him, but _no_! He has to go off without so much as a word to anyone!”

“So you think he ran away?” Harry asked in the half second that Elliot paused to take a breath.

“Well, I mean it's super weird that he took so much of our tech with him. That suggests that he wanted to lie out on a beach in Fiji or something, but still work. Which I would not put past him. My brother would always have a notebook on hand to write down notes on things he wanted to work on – or was working on – even while sitting down for Christmas dinner with our entire family. When he visits our older sister and has to watch her kids, he brings puppets along so that he can charm them to act out the epic creation story for whatever he's working on at the time. He accidentally taught them college level geometry by doing that. They're were frickin' six and eight at the time!”

Elliot bounced and skipped in a way that Harry privately thought a 19 or 20 year old man should not do. Ever. It was sort of creepy. But strangely, surprisingly endearing.

“Yeah, but what if he was kidnapped or something?” Harry questioned, trying to impart with his voice that this could very well be a serious matter.

“Who would do that??? _Everyone_ loved Rob! I mean take a look around! He made working fun! Where else can you get a job where anyone who finishes their work by four on Friday can join in on the light-saber tournament? Oh! Speaking of! Do you have some? We made replicas of the ones from Star Wars. They're not deadly in the slightest and won't even cut a hand off, but they're so much fun – especially if you like fencing. See, what happens is this, the handle is empty – just like they are in the movies when not in use – but then when you pick it up, a spell on the handle scans your magical core and filters a bit of your magic through the handle to form a beam of light. The size and color are determined by your magic, as is the shape to a lesser extent. Because magic is usually a field – just like electricity is a field – you can _feel_ the spark or the hum, or what have you. But it passes right through everything except a beam from another light-saber. Thus, _battles_! Oh look! I found the bin they're stashed in! Here, have one. You'll love them, I promise!”

This one actually sounded interesting to Harry, so he gripped the handle in his right hand and – accidentally dropped it when Janice produced a bright pinkish purple light in a wide two foot long beam and swung it through him. Dwayne was a second behind her, producing a dark blue light in a slim four foot long beam that made him smile. He promptly attacked his partner, diverting her attention from Harry.

“The color you produce is your magic, but doesn't really indicate strength, so far as we can tell. Just your basic personality. For example, Auror Jauncey is a spunky spitfire – which I think we all notice within about a minute of meeting her. Whereas I'd have to guess Auror Roche to be a man of steely determination and a cool temper,” Elliot explained, sounding almost calm for once.

Dwayne nodded in agreement even as he blocked a vicious jab from Janice.

Draco finished his curious examination of the handle he was given, and gripped it to form a three foot beam of silver light so solid that it almost looked like a real sword. It was even flatish, and reminded him of a few of the heirloom swords that his family used to use back when swords were almost a necessity of life. He cautiously tried to touch the sword to make sure that it wouldn't cut his hand off if he got carried away. To his surprise, the beam went right through his hand, but tingled strongly enough to hurt, which he tried to shake off.

Now seriously curious, Harry waved his palm over the handle he'd dropped and silently summoned it to his hand. Holding it firmly, he was tempted to hold his breath, but then a tapered four foot long by four inch in diameter beam formed in front of him. He sighed, just a tiny bit disappointed.

“I should have known it would be gold,” he muttered.

“Ooooooooo...” Elliot drooled reverently. “Shiny...”

“Why did you think it would be gold?” Dwayne asked, pausing his duel with Janice to get a better look.

Harry shrugged. “Well, I used to live with my muggle aunt and so long as I did, I was protected from Voldemort –”

He was cut off by a dramatic gasp – echoed by a few dozen or so curious onlookers who were lurking in the background while trying to look like they were busy working. Elliot clutched his heart as if it had just twisted in his chest. Conversely, Dwayne and Janice were _almost_ used to hearing him say that name by now and merely flinched, while Draco was paying too much attention to his own saber to listen to Harry.

Continuing, Harry pretended like no one had made any noise. “So that he couldn't get to me, but that protection was going to end when I turned 17. So, in an effort to bring me to safety, several of my friends Polyjuiced into me. Once my hair was added to the potion, it turned golden. And then when Voldemort –” He paused to let (nearly) everyone gasp and cringe. “Was chasing me – flying without a broom – my wand defended me by shooting a golden beam at him – but that wasn't anywhere near as thick as this one is. Anyway, my point is that I should have expected it to be gold.”

“Yours looks like a baseball bat with a pointy end,” Dwayne remarked. He tried touching it, immediately gasped and shook his hand before sticking his finger in his mouth. “Schtings too,” he slurred around his finger.

“It shouldn't sting that much, just a tingle,” Elliot said with a frown. He was still pressing a hand to his heart from hearing the V word actually said out loud, but his other hand reached out to touch Harry's beam. “Ow! You're right. Cool! I wonder if that is an indicator of magical strength after all. Most of the time, it's just tingles. Yeah, some of them are really strong and can make a person's hair stand up, or give a small shock during a duel, but nothing like that.”

Draco held out his saber so that the sword-like beam was right in front of Elliot. “Mine stings too.”

Elliot was slightly hesitant to try it, but since it ultimately hadn't hurt him, he gave it a try. “Ow, yep, that stings too.” He danced around a bit as he shook his hand. “I wonder if it's just something to do with you being British?” He pulled out a small notebook, opened it, and spoke directly to it. “Not to self, bring a few light-sabers around the world and have witches and wizards try them. Also, figure out a way to measure a person's magical core to see if there's any correlation between core strength and beam stinging. Also, come up with other possible reasons for it to sting if it _isn't_ core strength.” He shut the notebook and stashed it in his pocket.

Draco put his left arm behind his back, held the light-saber at the ready, and shifted into an elegant stance. “Know anything about fencing, Potter?”

“Not a thing,” Harry stated flatly, letting the beam disappear so that he could shove the handle in his pocket. “How do _you_ even know it?”

“I know you didn't have the opportunity to take a tour, but surely you noticed at least _one_ sword on the wall when you were dragged through Malfoy Manor,” Draco said, honestly thinking that Harry would've had to been blind not to notice them.

“I was a bit distracted,” Harry reminded him a bit sarcastically. “What with having a stinging hex hit me like a punch to the eye, being tied up and dragged around by a werewolf, and – oh yeah – having your father and aunt about two seconds away from calling Voldemort (gasps) over to murder me and all my friends.”

“Yeah, alright, fair point,” Draco conceded, swinging his light-saber sword back to a “safe” position.

“I'll take you on, Blondie,” a short but muscular man with black hair and brown eyes challenged, holding up a dark red light-saber. Janice looked him over with interest.

“Challenge accepted,” Draco stated, gesturing an invitation for Shorty to attack him.

Harry watched in amazement as Draco clearly took control of the match and didn't even break a sweat as he defended himself. Considering that Elliot had more or less given his employees the day off – in an attempt to keep them in the cafeteria rather than under foot – they had no problems gathering around to watch and cheer. After Draco defeated Shorty, a new person challenged him. And so on because Draco was definitely having fun.

As he fenced, Harry beckoned Elliot off to the side a bit. “Erm, is there anything here that, well, like a brush. Something that might have some hair or maybe something your brother wore a lot?”

Elliot shook his head. “Nah, nothing like that, but if you want, I'll bring you to his house. I'm sure there's plenty of stuff like that there.”

“Good idea,” Harry agreed. Then he jabbed his thumb in the direction of Draco, Janice, and Dwayne – who were also having matches of their own. “ _After_ they remember that we're here on business.”

“Ah, let 'em play,” Elliot bade with a grin. “I really don't think my brother wants to be found yet. He'll come back when he does.”

“Then where do you think he went?” Harry inquired.

“Fiji? Cancun? Jamaica? The Maldives? Your guess is as good as mine,” Elliot replied with a shrug. “I hope he _finally_ finds himself a girlfriend. He's 26 – for fuck's sake! If he doesn't start thinking about _thinking_ about having a family someday, it'll be too late.”

“So... he doesn't have a girlfriend?” Harry questioned since that was one of the things he had planned to ask.

“Well, I mean he has. He used to go on dates all the time, but it seemed like most women were only interested in him for his money. He eventually stopped dating and basically hooked up when he was in the mood. He has three women here that are willing to play around with him from time to time without getting attached to him, jealous of each other, or trying to use him to climb the corporate ladder,” Elliot explained.

Taking advantage of the fact that Elliot seemed to be calm and willing to answer his questions, Harry asked as many as he could think of. Eventually, the light-saber battle came to an end and his companions were ready to go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of notes, this really isn't important, but these days, it seems like everyone has a Keurig or a regular coffee pot - or both. I myself do not drink coffee because it gives me migraines, so I only ever had a tiny pot I used to heat water for tea. When I found out about the Keurig pots in a waiting room one day, I thought they were cool until I realized that they waste a lot of little plastic containers. Meanwhile, I had once bought my mom a Gevalia pot like the one in the link, and a subscription to the coffee - which she does like and can drink without migraines. So, considering that this takes place in early/mid July of 1999, I decided to 'vote' for Gevalia over Keurig simply because that was around the time I got the pot for my mom, lol.
> 
> Also, if you didn't click on the links provided for anything, and I don't blame you since they aren't necessary for the story, but seriously, go back and check out the link for the Governor's Suite. It's interactive and super cool :-D


	5. In Which Harry Finds Robert Ward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Elliot brings Harry and company to Robert's home, he casts his spell and finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like I'm constantly apologizing in the notes for this fic, lol. But now I'm apologizing because remember when I said that this is endgame Drarry but that it takes like 10 or 11 chapters? Well, that's because I wanted them to build up at least a foundation of a friendship first - since I haven't really done that in any other fic before. So, to that end, I mention both of them shagging others for the next few chapters, but nothing explicit is on page, so this still qualifies as a Teen rating. I think.

 

By the time they arrived at Robert Ward's home, it was a little after 5pm local time. This meant that it was after 10pm in London, and despite still being sunny, Harry was getting a little tired. He was almost tempted to call it quits for the night, go back to his hotel room, and get a good night's rest. However, since he was here, he might as well just get the job done.

“When we were here before, we ran all our magiforensic scans but didn't find any evidence of foul play, so we had no choice but to leave,” Dwayne explained.

“And the fucking wards are still working, see?” Janice added, casting a spell to highlight the normally invisible wards. “That means no assholes could've abducted him from here. In fact, no one could have fucking gotten in without him or Elliot letting them in.”

“Did anyone else have access through the wards?” Harry asked.

Elliot shrugged. “Our parents. Our sister. He may or may not have granted access to those women I told you about, but I'd guess probably not. He did his hooking up during his breaks.”

Harry had already made a plan to interview those women tomorrow, so he basically nodded in understanding and moved on. “I'm going to look in his bedroom and bathroom. I'm looking for anything that has his hair in it – ideally a brush – but if he was fanatical about keeping his brush clean, I'll need  _anything_ that he had on him a lot. A favorite ring. A favorite jumper he didn't wash. Things like that.”

Janice pointed at the couch. “A rag he used to clean up his cum when watching porn on the fucking TV.”

“What? Ew!” Harry blurted out when he saw that yes, there was a rag laying on the couch and it really did appear to have a dried substance on it. “Erm... I suppose that might work, but I'm going to look for something else first.” 

He practically ran to the Master bedroom. Then he leaned against the wall a moment and wondered why  _everything_ seemed to be about sex since he arrived. Regaining his composure, he busied himself looking around. To his disappointment, the house was  _immaculate_ . No hair in the brush, no toe nail clippings in the carpet, no used tissues in the rubbish bin. Even his tooth brush looked as pristine as if it had just come out of the box. 

Sighing, Harry returned to the living room. Dwayne, Janice, Draco, and Elliot were all looking around for things, but since the house was almost unnaturally clean, they hadn't found anything either. This made Harry frown.

“Is Robert obsessed with cleanliness?” Harry asked.

Elliot shrugged. “Not so much. He just happens to have a cleaning lady that is – oh! She's keyed into the wards too, but she's about 80 and has been working for our family forever. I'd be shocked if she did anything to Rob.”

“Alright,” Harry murmured, making a mental note to interview her at some point too. He then glared at the rag. “Merlin and Godric! This had better work...” He reluctantly reached out and pinched as little of the rag as possible between his pointer finger and thumb of his left hand. He grabbed his wand with his right and let it rest on his open palm. “Point Me Robert Ward!”

The rag promptly began to glow, which transferred into his wand that then whipped around to point out the large sliding glass door. With a sigh of relief, Harry dropped the rag. He then wiped his hand on his trousers.

“Well, he's that way, but how far away, I don't know yet,” Harry informed them.

“That's a kick ass fucking spell!” Janice cheered. “We'd've fucking found the missing bastard ourselves by now if we knew that sweet as shit spell.”

Harry chuckled. “That was the first thing I asked Kingsley when he told me about this case. I just thought it would've been the first thing you tried. As it turns out, my best friend may have invented this spell just for me, so...” he trailed off with a shrug.

Deciding that it couldn't hurt to follow his wand out the glass doors – even if Robert was far enough away that he'd have to stop for the night and resume tomorrow – Harry walked over and opened the door. Then he took a good look around.

“This place is _nice,_ ” Harry murmured to himself.

“Fuck yeah it is!” Janice agreed. “I wish I could afford a sweet ass place like this on my shitty salary.”

“Well, I don't know if I'd want the entire place,” Harry replied. “It's a bit too, erm... industrial? Anyway, I like the coziness and draftiness of my house, but I think I might do some remodeling after all because this pool looks brilliant. And actually, I've been meaning to invite Neville over to fix up my garden for _ages_.”

Elliot pointed to a small but pretty ruby red rose bush in full bloom. “My brother must have decided to have Nan – that's the housekeeper – plant a garden too, because that's new.”

Harry stared at the bush with a frown, glancing back and forth between it and his wand. “Erm... according to my wand, he's... standing right there.”

“Faulty spell after all?” Draco wondered.

Harry sighed heavily and ran his left hand through his hair. “Bartemius Crouch.”

“Say what?” Dwayne asked in confusion.

“Back in my Fourth Year, our school hosted the Triwizard Tournament. I'm not sure you have anything like it in America, but basically, the three European Wizarding Schools get together and host a tournament where a champion is chosen to represent their school and compete against each other. I didn't know it at the time, but a convicted Death Eater that was supposed to be in prison – named Bartemius Crouch Jr. – was Polyjuicing himself into a man named Alastor Moody, who was teaching our Defense Against the Dark arts class. Barty Jr. bamboozled the magic cup in charge of selecting the champions and added my name so that I was picked as a fourth champion.”

He paused to take a breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. “His father was a Ministry official and had helped him escape from prison by switching him for his dying mother – at her insistence. But then Barty Crouch – Senior – kept him a prisoner until he managed to escape, which was when he impersonated Moody. At the same time, Barty – Junior – kept his father imprisoned under an Imperius Curse.”

“Bloody hell,” Draco swore. He hadn't heard the full story before, and hearing that someone imprisoned and Imperiused _their father_ was inconceivable to him.

Harry gave him a very tiny smile. “I thought you might feel that way, and I haven't even gotten to the worst part. At one point, Barty Crouch – Senior – managed to break free from the curse and tried to warn Dumbledore that Moody was actually being impersonated by his son. He stumbled across me and was raving. I honestly couldn't understand a word he was saying, so I told Krum – Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang Champion, who I'd been chatting with – to keep an eye on him while I went to get Dumbledore. While I was gone, Barty Jr. snuck up on Krum, stunned him, murdered his father, and then transfigured his dead body into a bone, which he buried in Hagrid's garden.”

“ _Fuck..._ ” Draco exhaled in a mild sense of horror.

“Right?” Harry agreed with a solemn nod.

They were all silent for a moment. Everyone except Elliot stared at the rose bush warily. Elliot's eyes were sort of quivering back and forth as he thought this over. Suddenly, he gasped.

“So wait! You're saying that _that's_ my brother?! And he's dead!!!” 

“I sincerely hope not,” Harry murmured. Then he sighed as if in defeat. “I'm actually shite at Transfiguration. Can anyone do a reverse? Or is it an end incantation?”

“Yeah, I can,” Dwayne replied, holding up his wand and casting the spell necessary to change the rose bush back into Robert. They watched grimly as the bush seemed to grow and spread out into a body shape, and then all the roses looked as if they melted, covering the body in blood.

“Shit!” Janice cried out even as Harry knelt to check Robert for a pulse. 

It was so faint that Harry wasn't entirely sure if it was real or wishful thinking. He then cast his basic first aid diagnostic spells on Robert, which proved that the man was in fact still alive. Sighing in relief, he cast a few rudimentary healing spells that made most of the blood go back into the big crack in his skull and sort of scab over.

Robert seemed to regain consciousness rather suddenly, gripping Harry's suit jacket and straining to tell him something. “Elephant disappeared. Hey! Stop sign. Thank you. Turn around. Doing doing. Horseshoe. Turtle. Dingadingadingadingadinga, Peanut!”

“Er... what?” Harry asked in utter confusion.

Elliot dropped to his knees on the other side of his brother. “Rob, hey man, you're not making any sense. What happened?”

“Elephant disappeared. Hey! Stop sign. Thank you. Turn around. Doing doing. Horseshoe. Turtle. Dingadingadingadingadinga, Peanut!” Rob repeated, looking frustrated and very serious.

Dwayne put a hand on Harry's shoulder. “You found him, case solved. The best thing for us to do now is get him to the hospital before that nice patch job you did breaks open again.”

“Right,” Harry stated in agreement.

“Let me...” Elliot murmured, trailing off as he stood up and pulled out his wand. He cast a spell to lighten his brother, and then picked him up and carried him over to the outdoor firepit. A waist high wrought iron pole had a jar dangling from it, which Elliot grabbed a handful of powder from and tossed into the pit as he called out the name to the nearest wizarding hospital. 

With a nod, Janice grabbed Harry while Dwayne grabbed Draco, both Aurors Apparated directly to the hospital. They only stayed long enough to verify that Robert was being admitted to the Emergency Room. After that, Harry admitted that there was nothing more he could do until Robert was in recovery – at the very least – and probably tomorrow at the earliest.

“I think I should probably just Apparate to my hotel room from here,” he murmured, rubbing his head tiredly.

“Fuck that!” Janice cried out with a shake of her head. “You fucking found an injured man the rest of us assholes thought was on vacation! You deserve to get blind fucking drunk and kick ass in a fucking bar fight! Come on! Let me at least buy you one fucking drink at the shitty hotel bar before you pass out in your big ass bed!”

Harry felt like she would probably argue with him until he gave in, and that it would be easier to simply do it now and get it over with. Plus, he could really use a drink. “Fine,” he agreed with a heavy sigh.

“What about you?” Dwayne asked Draco, who nodded in agreement.

The four of them arrived in the [bar area of the hotel lobby](https://www.google.com/maps/@40.7112779,-74.0103434,2a,90y,180.53h,82.6t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1snmRl1WUGW_YAAAQYbJNFCQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656) a moment later. Janice pointed emphatically at the biggest of the available tables – which was only big enough for four people. One side had a booth shared with a couple of other, smaller, two person tables. The other side had two chairs, and it was ironically the only empty table in the bar as all the others – including the tiny ones surrounded by armchairs, and the ones tucked into the alcoves of the windows – were already occupied. Harry, Draco, and Dwayne walked over and sat at the table as Janice headed to the bar and ordered them a round of her favorite drink – Long Island Iced Tea.

“Cheer the fuck up, dude!” She insisted as she handed Harry his drink.

“Sorry,” Harry murmured reflexively as he accepted the drink. He took a cautious sip, and aside from it being clearly _very_ alcoholic, thought it tasted rather good.

“Why the fuck are you sorry? You solved the _shit_ out of that case!” 

“I know, I just hate the fact that we still don't know what happened to him,” Harry explained morosely.

“That's technically _our_ job,” Dwayne reminded him. “In the morning, the case will officially be reopened and assigned to us – if it hasn't been already. You can actually go back home if you want.”

Harry looked like he'd rather swallow a shotglass full of live wasps than go home already. Without a word, he took another sip of his drink.

“Bleeding heart Gryffindor,” Draco muttered in accusation, also sipping on his drink.

“So you think we should go home then?” Harry asked with a deep frown.

“I didn't say that,” Draco said, shaking his head. “I just meant that you need to – to quote our spitfire friend here – cheer the fuck up.”

Harry sighed in defeat. “I know...”

Janice rubbed a hand over his chest. “You know, I was actually serious earlier. Right now, you look like you need a good fuck, one so hard that you forget your own name. One that makes you see stars when you cum, and then pass out.”

Harry pressed his lips together, twisting them to the side as he looked her up and down in consideration. Before he could say anything, a giggling drunk woman stumbled over to their table. She straddled Draco's lap, who was sitting in one of the two chairs at an angle. Without a word and still giggling at first, she kissed him rather shockingly.

Draco reacted almost comically, holding up his hands as if saying:  _I have nothing to do with this_ . After a moment, his hands sort of wavered around as if he wasn't quit sure if he should push her away or grab onto her. And then he seemed to surrender, letting his hands settle on her waist and returning the kiss – which was rather thorough by this point.

“God you're so gorgeous,” she broke off to tell him. “Hottest man in the room. Hell! You're the hottest man I've seen in a while!”

“Er –” Draco's plan to awkwardly thank her for the compliment was cut short as she resumed kissing him. He couldn't help but think: _why not?_ It _had_ been a while since he'd last shagged.

Harry, seeing that Draco was well on his way to a good night, shrugged. “Er, alright. You're probably right.”

“Yes!” Janice hissed happily, pumping her fists.

“Hey now, what about me?” Dwayne asked with a flirty pout.

Harry drank half of what was left of his drink and set the cup down. “Never shagged a bloke before, but alright. I've actually been curious to try it.” He fished one of the two key cards to the hotel room out of his pouch and set it on the table next to Draco's drink. Then he downed the rest of his drink and stood up. “Come on.”

The three of them walked to the elevator area, but seeing that no one was looking in their direction, decided to skip the long ride up and just Apparate. Meanwhile, Draco was having a surprising amount of fun snogging this complete stranger, despite the fact that she was quite drunk and her mouth tasted like tequila. When she pulled back for air, he downed some of his own drink and noticed the key card.

“Want to come back to my room?”

“Yes please!” She cried out eagerly, now sucking on his neck. He picked up his key card and finished off his drink before setting her on her feet and leading her over to the elevators. 

The ride up was passionate and very nearly obscene. The few other people that got on and off the lift watched them curiously or ignored them, but didn't say anything. Obliviously involved with each other, they stumbled down the hallway once they reached the 55 th floor, and just barely managed to close the door of the suite behind them before she stripped her dress off and tossed it carelessly in whatever direction it flew. The rest of their clothes ended up littering the floor of the hallway leading to the Master bedroom – which Draco was extremely glad that he'd already been in the room and knew where he was going.

They were naked by the time they hit the bed, and took advantage of this fact until they passed out from sheer exhaustion. Thankfully, Draco managed to remember before they truly started to flip her onto her stomach and make sure she couldn't see what he was doing as he cast detection and then protections spells on her so that there wouldn't be any unwanted consequences. But after that, their shagging was so vigorous that it could have won a medal in an Olympic event. When he was done, Draco had some of the best sleep of his life.

 

***

 

In the morning, Harry woke up to find that Janice and Dwayne had left at some point. A glance at the clock proved that it was going on 10am – which was rather late, all considering. Scratching his bum, he slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom for his bedroom. After taking a shower, he summoned his bathrobe from his pouch, pulled it on, and then wandered into the living room area so that he could see if the hotel had menu to order room service from.

“Morning.”

Harry stopped short and looked the naked woman up and down. He recognized her as the woman who'd abruptly started kissing Draco the night before. She was short, had obviously died blonde hair, and curves a porn star would pay big money to have. “Er... morning.”

“Can you help me find my underwear? The gorgeous dude is still sleeping and I don't want to wake him, but I'm pretty sure my underwear aren't in the bedroom.”

“Alright...” Harry murmured before obligingly taking a look around. He noticed a trail of clothes leading from the entrance to the suite into the master bedroom. A bit warily, he glanced toward the Master bedroom. The door was open and he didn't want to actually intrude on Draco's privacy. That said, he very quickly discovered that he didn't need to.

In the ceiling right outside the master bathroom – which was in the hallway outside the actual bedroom – there was a light fixture that had one of those energy efficient spiral bulbs, about three or four inches away from a smoke detector. Hanging from the spiral light bulb was the very tiny pair of underwear. Making sure that she wasn't watching him, he pointed his finger at it and silently cast a summoning spell.

“Why even wear these?” He whispered to himself as he walked back into the living room. There was practically nothing to them! “Found them.”

“You're a lifesaver!” She gushed, kissing him on the cheek as she took the garment from him and used his arm to brace herself as she wobbily put the underwear on. To Harry's surprise, they not only fit (he wasn't entirely sure they were big enough), but they covered more than he thought they would.

“Would you like me to order you some breakfast?” Harry asked since he felt a bit awkward watching her get dressed in silence.

“Normally I'd jump at the chance, but my boyfriend wants to know why I didn't come home last night, and I told him that I was at my best friend's – and she'll totally back me up – but he's likely to go over there to pick me up if I don't get home soon, so I gotta go!”

“Er...” Harry droned, not sure what to say. She now had her bra on and was wiggling her back at him in a wordless request for him to help her close the hooks. “Good luck...” he said as he hooked her bra.

“Thanks! Tell gorgeous in there that I had one of the best nights of my life and that if I see him again and he's up for it, I'd totally love a repeat.”

“What about your boyfriend?” Harry couldn't help but wonder.

“He's not invited. He wouldn't want to join anyway, he's such a prude. I can't even get him to try doggy style!”

“Alright...” Harry murmured because he had no idea what to say to that.

By this point, she'd slipped her dress on, so she kissed him on the cheek again. “You've been so sweet. Too bad more men aren't like you. Later!”

As he watched her walk away, Harry spotted what looked like it might be a menu. Walking over to the desk, he picked up the phone and dialed the number listed for room service. When a man answered and cordially asked him what he wanted, he ordered two plates of bacon, eggs, sausage, and pancakes, served with both milk and orange juice. Then he spent a good five minutes discussing all the different types of tea the hotel had to offer, before finally settling on two orders of organic English Breakfast.

While he waited, he sat down on the sofa and used the remote to look through his options for things to watch. Fairly quickly, he noticed that Men in Black was going to be playing on a premium channel in a few minutes, and since Janice – or was it Dwayne? – had mentioned it and he hadn't seen it before, he decided to give it a try.

“They leave already?” Draco asked him unexpectedly as Harry was reading through a book of things to do nearby while waiting for the movie to start. Harry looked up to find him freshly showered and wearing a blue silk robe – wizard robe as opposed to bathrobe like Harry was wearing. It was dark blue with dragons in flight embroidered all over it.

Harry gestured for Draco to take a seat. “Yeah, they were called in to work early this morning. I feel bad for them since they hadn't gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep. I hope you're hungry since I ordered breakfast for both of us.”

“Bloody _starving!_ ” Draco admitted, making Harry chuckle.

“Your guest left right as I came out here to order breakfast. She said that she had one of the best nights of her life, and despite the fact that her boyfriend is suspicious of the reason she didn't come home, she'd like to spend the night with you again.”

Draco blushed just a little bit. “I've, erm, I've never done that before. Bring a stranger home for a one off, that is.”

Harry shrugged. “I'd never had a threesome before, or been with a bloke, but I figured  _why not_ ? We're in a new country, so shouldn't we try new things?”

Draco shrugged and then nodded. “I suppose that's true enough. Whereas I  _have_ had a threesome with a bloke before, so that didn't seem surprising to me at all. I just didn't want you to think I have no standards because I didn't even know her name.”

Harry chuckled again. “She used me to steady herself as she got dressed, so I had a good look at how she met or even exceeded the highest standards.”

That made Draco laugh softly. “Yes, I suppose she did. They were real too.”

Harry nodded, and then blushed. “I hope Janice didn't annoy you at all. Dwayne wasn't joking when he said she was loud.”

Draco chuckled and shook his head. “Didn't hear a thing. I had my own guest screaming loudly in my ear, so I don't think I would have heard her if she was right outside the door.”

A knock at the door let them know that their breakfast had arrived. Harry got up to retrieve it in case the person delivering it thought wizard robes were weird. Almost right away, Harry felt awkward.

“I'm supposed to tip you, right?”

“You don't have to, sir, but yes, it's considered courteous.”

“I don't have any money on me, but if you tell me your name, I'll see if I can leave something for you at the front desk,” Harry said.

With a nod, the man gave Harry a small envelope that had his name on it and was intended for exactly what Harry had suggested. Slipping the envelope into his robe pocket, Harry carried the tray into the room, shut the door with his foot, and then cast a gentle and steady Leviosa to float the tray over to where Draco was still sitting on the sofa.

“What is this?” Draco asked, pointing to the TV, where the movie was just starting. “Why is there an insect flying around on this muggle thing?”

Harry shrugged. “It's part of the movie.”

“What's a movie?”

As they ate, Harry did his best to explain the finer points of movies and telly programs. He didn't get far before the movie revealed a van full of people were forced to line up and one of them turned out to be an alien. Suddenly, both he and Draco were utterly engrossed.

At the end of the movie, as the credits were rolling and the song gave them the urge to dance – which they resisted – there was another knock at the door. Harry got up to answer it, belatedly wondering if the person on the other side of the door would find it weird that he was still in his bathrobe. He also noticed that Draco must have picked up his clothes – or more likely summoned them – at some point because they were no longer all over the hallway.

“Harry!” Janice greeted gleefully, giving him a quick hug and groping his arse before stepping around him into the room. “I fucking _love_ this movie! And this song is the fucking bomb!”

“Did we wear you out that much that you just woke up?” Dwayne asked in amusement as he also stepped into the room. He waited until the door was closed before giving Harry a quick kiss.

Blushing lightly, Harry shook his head. “I got interested in the movie and didn't feel like getting dressed yet.”

“We stopped by for two reasons,” Dwayne said as they walked back into the living room where Janice was dancing to the ending song. She was even singing the mildly rapped lyrics.

“Alright,” Harry acknowledged, even more tempted to dance, but he had never exactly learned how. The song ended just then anyway and Janice cast a spell at the TV to turn it off.

“Are you hungry? 'Cuz I'm fucking famished!” Janice asked.

“I supposed I could eat,” Harry said with a shrug even though he'd had breakfast not too long ago.

“That's one of the reasons we came,” Dwayne informed them. “To see if you wanted to grab lunch with us.”

“We'll go to a nice fucking restaurant and sit down and all that fancy shit!” Janice added.

Dwayne nodded in agreement. “Since MACUSA's paying.”

“What's the other reason?” Draco asked curiously.

“Just wanted to let you know that we visited Robert Ward as part of our investigation this morning and he's still speaking nonsense,” Dwayne said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him. “The Healers say that he's experiencing Aphasia, which means that he can't speak coherently. He _thinks_ he's saying something we can understand – such as: I'm hungry, please feed me – but what we hear is something like: Pink elephants, flying space dance. The Healers also say that he more than likely is not simply substituting one word for another, so we couldn't have him read flash cards and decode what he's saying. Also, and this isn't as common with severe brain injuries, but he can't write coherently either.”

“We tired to get him to write down what fucking happened and he wrote some crazy ass shit about camels and Faradays,” Janice added.

Dwayne nodded in agreement. “The good news is that the Healers say that his Aphasia should clear up as they heal his brain – and that should only take them a few days. They were able to heal the big gash in his head first – since bone is much easier to heal than brain matter, so there's no chance of re-injury. They also said that you did a good bit of first aid spellwork.”

Harry shrugged the compliment off. “I only did what Hermione taught me. If  _she_ had been the one casting the spell, it probably would have done more than just scab over.”

“Be that as it may, there's really nothing more we can do with Robert until he's healed,” Dwayne finished with a helpless shrug. “So, we're going back to MagTech after lunch to ask more questions. Maybe someone will have seen something unusual and that'll give us a direction to look in.”

Harry pressed his lips together to stop from asking if he could go with them, since he wasn't officially on the case anymore.

“And we thought _well fuck_! We got Harry fucking Potter visiting us specifically to help this unlucky bastard Robert Ward, so _why not_ have you come with us and see if you can find something we're too fucking blind to see.”

“Besides, President Quahog likes the idea of having you on hand when the case is solved. He thinks that it'll make for a better story in the newspapers, and that will in turn give MagTech a bit more publicity and increase sales,” Dwayne explained.

“Er...” Harry didn't like the idea of using him for publicity, but since he really did want to help solve the case, he figured why not? 

As if reading his mind, Draco tilted his head up and gave Dwayne a level look. “Tell him that we just doubled our fee.”

Dwayne laughed and nodded his head. Walking over to the phone on the table, he called the President's direct line. After a fairly short consultation, he hung up again.

“That's a go. He says that he'll modify the contract you signed to reflect the new amount so that you'll get paid it for yesterday too. Now come on, let's go eat before Jan starts growling like a wolf.”

“Let me just get dressed,” Harry replied, heading toward his room. Jan followed him, making him stop and look at her questioningly. “Er...?”

She grinned. “Don't mind me, I just want to watch the show.”

Laughing, Harry shrugged. “Why not?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I'm apologizing for portraying both Harry and Draco as a bit slaggy, but they *are* 19 and 20 after all. I think they can be forgiven. Or actually, I can be forgiven. I hope...
> 
> Lastly, when I needed to write Robert's aphasia, I went to my hubby and asked him to blurt out a string of random words that sounded just a little bit funny together, and he was too tired, so he told me to use the bit from Jeff Dunham in which Peanut, well, just listen to it for yourself, lol. Did you happen to catch the reference before I pointed it out?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFkCIcjvb-Y


	6. In Which they Figure Out What Happened to Robert Ward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the case officially assigned to the Aurors, Harry thinks he and Draco won't be allowed to help, but they decide to bring them along after all. The team interviews possible suspects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that don't like Janice, warning, she takes a more active role in this chapter, but then after that, she's no longer in the story.  
> Also warning, highly personal questions are asked, so if that might make you uncomfortable, skim the interrogations?  
> :-)

 

Elliot, knowing that the Aurors were planning to come back today, was waiting to greet them. He was remarkably subdued, not bouncing as he walked and talking at a normal speed. His eyes were red, and he looked like he hadn't slept much.

“Our parents arrived last night, and our sister brought her kids this morning. None of us can _believe_ that Rob nearly died. Until I saw it for myself, I really thought that he'd just gone on vacation. He's only 26, for Merlin's sake!”

They remained quiet as he visibly struggled not to start crying. He led them to the cafeteria – which was empty this time as it was after lunch break but before the afternoon breaks. After they all stocked up on things to drink – and Dwayne grabbed a slice of blueberry cheesecake, to Janice's dismay because they'd _just_ finished lunch – he led them to Rob's office. The office was spacious enough that they all got comfortable in arm chairs around a coffee table in front of a fireplace. The chairs also had a good view out some floor-to-ceiling windows off to the side, which overlooked a park built behind the company for the employees to enjoy.

“I think we should start by talking to the women he was pulling,” Harry suggested.

“I think we should take another look at company records,” Dwayne said. “We still haven't found the missing tech.”

“Right,” Elliot agreed. “I'll print up copies of everything I can think of for you to look through.” He summoned his laptop and got busy typing on it even as he pulled out a cellphone and called Rob's secretary. “Sheila, I'd like to see Mary, Tasheka, and what's the name of that other woman my brother occasionally played around with?”

“Shelley?” The secretary inquired.

“Yeah, her,” Elliot confirmed. “But not all at the same time. Schedule them so that they have 15 minute appointments each.”

“Yes sir.”

Elliot was busy printing things up when Shelley arrived. She entered the office curiously, her eyes bulging in delight when she spotted Harry. She clearly hadn't expected to see him again so soon. She practically jogged over to the chairs.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” She asked Elliot even as she smiled adoringly at Harry. He took a moment to study her. She had black hair which was straight and long enough to reach her lower back. Her eyes were a brown so dark that they almost looked black. They were also a distinctive almond shape that would have hinted at an Asian background if she wasn't so obviously Chinese.

“Korean, actually.”

“What?” Harry asked even as he gestured for her to sit down.

“You're wondering if I immigrated here from China recently or as a child, and my family is actually from Korea. Well, my biological family is. I myself was adopted by white Americans as a baby.”

“Lucky bitch,” Janice murmured with a smile, more than happy to relax a bit as she drank her coffee.

“Good to know,” Harry said, suddenly realizing that she was the woman with impressively round and soft looking breasts that had flashed him yesterday. He did his best not to blush. “Actually, I wanted to know about whatever was going on between you and Robert Ward.”

“We had sex whenever we were both in the mood, but I think you already knew that, so what do you want to know? How often we did it? What positions we used? Whether or not we did it on his desk or the floor?”

“Erm... I don't need to know _all_ of that, but how often and whether it upset you when he was with other women,” Harry clarified.

“Oh no,” Shelley denied with a cheery smile and a flap of her hand. “Why would that bother me. I wasn't serious about him either. We'd have sex about three times a week, and it was almost always when _I_ was trying to figure something out and stuck. I'd come to his office and have him fuck me until I couldn't remember my name, and then I'd recover for a bit and it would be like my brain had rebooted itself. Suddenly I could think again, and usually, I'd come up with a solution to whatever I was stuck on.”

“I'd like to know specifics like where you fucked, how good he was, how fat his dick is, did you ever fuck in this chair?”

“Janice!” Harry exclaimed in protest.

“What?! It might be fucking vital to the goddamn case!”

“I highly doubt it,” Harry murmured.

“Good thing _I'm_ in charge then,” Janice stated haughtily, which was the first time Harry could recall her being less than friendly.

Shelley shrugged. “We've fucked all over this office – yes, including on the chairs. He was so good! I always had an orgasm, and more often than not, I had two or three. He's always attentive to my pleasure. He almost seemed uninterested in getting off – at least until I was a quivering pile of jelly, and then he'd see to his pleasure. As for how big he was, he was about average. I never measured it, but I'd say it was about six inches and about this big around.” She held up one hand and made a good sized circle with her pointer finger and thumb.

Elliot sort of nodded his head, as if saying: _yeah, sounds about right for our family._ Meanwhile, Draco had stood up and was scrutinizing his chair suspiciously. He decided to cast several strong cleaning spells before sitting back down. Harry couldn't exactly blame him, tempted to do the same.

Janice laughed. “You _do_ know that just about every shitty chair you sit on has been fucked on at some point, right?”

“Er...” Draco droned as he thought this over. “Brilliant!” He exclaimed sarcastically. “Now I'm going to have to clean everything before I sit down from now on.”

“Afraid of a little cum?” Janice asked with a smirk.

Draco shrugged. “Not really afraid. More like... I don't relish the thought of sitting in something I didn't personally help create.”

Janice nodded in acceptance.

“Ever seen Mr. Ward argue with anyone?” Dwayne asked.

“No, I... wait... Actually, I think I _did_ see him arguing with Ms. Gutierrez. I can't be sure, because Rob always _seems_ to be yelling. Not angrily, mind, but a bit like Elliot here. Talking excitedly and fairly loudly. But once, I walked by his office to see if he was available, and he was in here talking with Alison. I thought nothing of it at the time, but they seemed to be arguing heatedly. That said, they had no problems shouting at each other if they thought the other was being an idiot, so even that was probably normal.”

“Yeah,” Elliot confirmed. “Ally wanted cut back on expenses by reducing the amount of approved R&D. They were shouting at each other for weeks on that. Rob insisted that we made enough money that we could and should continue developing things – because you never know what might be the next big seller. Ally felt that we had so many projects that failed that it would make more sense to cut off anything that hadn't panned out in over six months.” He shrugged. “Meh, the hazards of running a corporation.”

“Who's Ms. Gutierrez?” Harry wondered.

“The CFO – Chief Financial Officer – the woman in charge of all our finances,” Elliot explained.

“Ah,” Harry murmured in understanding.

“Can you think of anything else that's weird or unusual?” Dwayne wondered.

Shelley shrugged and shook her head.

“Alright then, you can go,” Dwayne permitted.

With a nod, she stood up. “Um... Rob actually was thinking about going on vacation soon. He asked the three of us if we wanted to go with him, so we think he just up and went by himself. Even so, I hope you find him soon.”

They all exchanged a look, deciding that it was up to Elliot to decide what to say. Elliot realized this almost right away and nodded in agreement with the thoughts in his head.

“We actually did, but please don't say anything until I can make an announcement in an hour or so.”

“You did?! That's wonderful! Is he in Tahiti?”

Elliot shrugged. “As I said, I'll make an announcement in about an hour.”

“Alright,” Shelley murmured in acceptance before leaving.

Mary entered the office almost right away. “You wanted to see me?”

“You're a no-maj, right?” Elliot asked as he gestured for her to sit in the chair Shelley had just vacated.

“Yes sir, but I have level one clearance,” Mary confirmed.

“Good,” Elliot stated, then he turned to Harry. “That means she's been given permission by MACUSA to know about magic. It's rare for MACUSA to grant clearance as they are really protective of our kind since the no-maj have a long history of persecution in our country. That said, nearly all the no-maj working here gain level one clearance because they need to in order to do their jobs. Thus, nearly all the no-maj in the country who are allowed to know about us – who aren't directly related to witches and wizards born from no-maj – are here.”

“Alright,” Harry said with a nod of understanding.

Mary studied Harry curiously. She had curly red hair, blue eyes, and a long and plump body. Pushing a bit of her wild hair behind her ear in an attempt to control it, she raised her other hand in a gesture that indicated Harry.

“You're that man that visited yesterday, aren't you? The one that basically got us all a day off. A couple of my friends tried to explain why you're so famous, but I guess I just have a hard time picturing anyone so evil that defeating him would make you a super star. I mean not even the person or people who took down Hitler are so well known. I don't even think _anyone_ knows them.”

Harry shrugged. “I can't exactly control people thinking I should be famous. I try to stay out of the public eye, but at some point, I suppose I just had to give in and accept that there's nothing I can do about it.”

“So was that guy really that bad?” Mary wondered curiously.

Harry shrugged again. “I suppose that depends on how you feel about a man who tried to murder a baby. Specifically. And ended up murdering both of his parents instead. And this was after he murdered a bunch of other people but before he murdered a bunch more people and tried to take over the world.”

“So what you're saying is that he was a murderous bastard who definitely needed to die,” Mary summed up. “Alright. Good thing you took him down then. But why a baby?”

“Apparently there was a prophecy that said that I would bring about his downfall and he wanted to prevent that. Only – as with most prophecies in my experience – the more he tried to stop it, the more he guaranteed that it happened,” Harry explained with a shrug.

“Well that sucks!” Mary commiserated.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded in agreement.

Janice waved her hand before Mary could say anything else. “Alright, so we called your gorgeous ass in here so that we could get the low down on your fuck buddy status with Robert Ward. How much did you fuck, where did you fuck, was he any good, how big is he, and are you jealous of his other bitches?”

Mary looked surprised, but then seemed to think: _what the hell, why not?_ “Well, I don't really see why it's any of your business, but yeah. I had lots of sex with Rob. Mostly in this office, but occasionally in the bathroom. Once on the roof. He's pretty good. I mean I've had better, but at least he always takes the time to make sure I get off. You probably won't be surprised at how few men do that.”

“I know, right?” Janice asked and agreed at the same time.

“And he's about average in size. The best thing is that he never treated me like I should be grateful to him for screwing me just because I'm a bit bigger than most women,” Mary added.

“Fucking assholes, am I right?”

“Like I don't have my pick?! I'm damn beautiful!” Mary exclaimed gesturing to herself with an expression like: _are they blind?_

“Yeah, I already said that I think you're fucking gorgeous,” Janice agreed.

“As for being jealous, why?” Mary asked in genuine confusion. “We weren't together. He didn't buy us things, he didn't take us places or date us. There was nothing to be jealous of. He treated us all the same. We came to him when we wanted sex, he gave us orgasms, and then we went back to work and did our jobs. In fact, Shelley, Tasheka, and I are good friends. We hang out a lot and have basically agreed that none of us are looking for a relationship with anyone at the moment because we want to focus on our careers.”

She laughed and shook her head. “And Rob's like _way_ too busy to settle down with anyone. I'm surprised that he took off on vacation like that. He either met a woman he wanted to screw more than anything, or he finally cracked and needed a break. He works like _all_ the time. I have no idea when or _if_ he even sleeps.”

“Okay,” Janice stated in acceptance. “About how many times a week did the two of you fuck?”

“Oh god, like... I don't know, three or four? It was usually a random thing. I'd get frustrated with my work and decide to go have sex and relax for a bit. It almost always worked. I'd come back feeling refreshed and ready to finish my work.”

Dwayne waved at her to indicate that it was his turn. “And did you notice him have problems with anyone? Or anything else out of the ordinary?”

“No,” Mary denied with a shake of her head. “Just the usual. He and Ms. Gutierrez were fighting over R&D again, but they fight about that at least once a day, so it's nothing unusual. Rob's a bit mad that the janitor managed to win the last seven games of racquetball in a row – but to be fair, that janitor plays a _lot_ and it's hard to beat him, so pfft. Other than that, no, can't think of anything.”

“Alright, you can go,” Dwayne informed her.

Mary walked all the way to the door and half through it before she stopped and looked back at them. “I hope you find him and bring him home soon. Sexual relief aside, he's actually really good at helping us talk through our development issues. For example, I'm currently stuck on how to properly ward cellphones so that they work in high magic areas. Rob was in the middle of a discussion on exactly that with me the last time I saw him, but then he had to go to a meeting, so we haven't been able to finish our talk yet. And I feel like once we do, I'll be able to finish up my project.”

“Oh!” Elliot exclaimed with interest, looking up from his laptop. “Actually, I'm surprised he didn't tell you to come talk to me. I'm working on that for a different project. Come see me later on – or probably tomorrow – and we can more than likely pool our resources and brainstorm.”

“Sure thing Elliot!” Mary exclaimed, sort of saluting him before walking away.

Tasheka walked in just after she disappeared. She was average height for a woman, had soft brown eyes, and shoulder length black hair that was thick and probably extremely curly in it's natural state, but Draco recognized all the signs of Sleekeasy's potion – which resulted in straight and shiny, not to mention easy to style hair. “Good afternoon, Elliot.”

“Hi Tash,” Elliot greeted in return. At this point, he had finished telling his computer to print up all the files he thought necessary, and now just needed for the printer to finish the job. Thus, he set his laptop aside and gestured for Tasheka to sit down.

“What's going on?” Tasheka asked, looking around curiously.

Elliot waved his hand, palm up, in Janice's direction.

“We need to know how often you fucked Robert Ward, where you two fucked, how good he was, how big he was, were you jealous of his other bitches, and how big an asshole you thought he was.”

Tasheka stared at her with a slightly open mouth for a moment. “ _Excuse_ me? Can you _please_ not swear?”

Dwayne burst out laughing. “You're asking the impossible there!”

Janice agreed with an amused snort. Tasheka harrumphed and shifted primly in her seat. “My daddy is a southern baptist preacher, and he taught me to always speak with respect. If you cannot use a professional tone of voice, then I refuse to answer any of your questions.”

Janice held up her hands as if surrendering and kept her mouth shut, but then rolled her hands to insist that Tasheka answer the questions. Dwayne smiled at her.

“My mama was the same – not a preacher – but something of a gentile southern lady. She always told me that if I couldn't say anything nice, not to say anything at all. And then she'd wash my mouth out with soap or paddle me good if I forgot myself.”

“Hmm,” Tasheka hummed with a nod of agreement. Then she shrugged and sighed. “Why do you need to know these things?”

“I know they're extremely personal questions, but in my experience, my partner can almost always solve a case by analyzing the love lives of everyone involved,” Dwayne explained.

“Really???” Tasheka questioned in disbelief.

“You'd be surprised,” Dwayne confirmed with a nod.

“Well... okay,” Tasheka gave in. “We did _it_ in here mostly. Once – about a year ago – he took me to a hotel room for a night. But that was because we were both going to a tech conference and it just seemed like a good idea to share a room. I'm, um, well, look I know you won't believe me, but I'm not really the type to play around. I'm also not looking to be serious at the moment. So, I usually only came to him about once a week. More often it was less than that, about once every other week. The thing with Rob is that he's really nice. He, um, well, he,” she faltered with a blush.

“He made sure you had your pleasure before he took his?” Dwayne asked, sparing her a little embarrassment.

“Yes, exactly,” she answered with a nod. Then she looked out the window. “I don't really have a lot of experience with others, so I can't tell you if he was average or big or small or anything like that. But he was about...” she illustrated the length with her hands before forming a circle with her fingers. “As for jealousy? There was no need to be jealous. If I came to see him, he made time for me. He was always nice and respectful. I never noticed him _intentionally_ be an... uh, well, mean. Sure, he was always overworked and sort of stressed – so he had his bad moods – but once he realized that he was being snippy, he'd apologize. He'd take a break and get coffee, and then he'd be renewed and cheerful again.”

Elliot nodded in agreement with that. “I can vouch for that. If Rob ever got to a point where he was yelling in anger or frustration, he'd walk away and get some coffee.”

“What about those shouting matches with Ms. Gutierrez?” Harry wondered.

“That was completely different,” Elliot admitted with a shrug. “That's just how they communicated best.”

“Alright...” Harry acknowledged in mild disbelief.

“Did you ever see Mr. Ward argue with anyone?” Dwayne asked.

Tasheka gestured toward Elliot. “Ms. Gutierrez – like he just said. That's how they always were.”

“Is there anything else you can think of? Anything unusual?” Dwayne inquired.

Tasheka shrugged. “Well I _did_ think it was unusual for Rob to say he was thinking of taking a vacation. I've worked here almost since the beginning and I don't think he's ever even taken a sick day. Didn't he come in the day he had the flu and had taken a remedy... what do you guys call them? Potions or something?”

“A pepper up potion,” Elliot reminded her.

Tasheka nodded, gesturing to her face. “And he had steam coming out of his nose and ears for at least an hour.”

“That's true,” Elliot agreed. “He doesn't like to take time off for any reason.

“Okay, thank you, you can go,” Dwayne stated with a respectful nod.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything else,” Tasheka bade them.

After she left, Elliot got up and shuffled the _many_ printed pages into coherent files for each of them.

“I think we should talk to Ms. Gutierrez,” Harry suggested.

“I agree,” Dwayne said.

“We'll go to her office before I make the announcement,” Elliot stated, handing them each a copy of the files he'd made.

But first, they made another trip to the cafeteria where Elliot and Janice refilled their coffee, Harry tried a new type tea – or at least it was new to him. It was called Yunnan Black tea, and since it smelled a bit like chocolate, he thought it was at least worth a try. Draco opted for his well liked Jasmine Gold Dragon tea – which was caffeine free and he claimed helped keep him awake and in a good mood. Lastly, Dwayne made himself a strawberry banana milkshake and grabbed a couple slices of pizza with every possible topping on it.

They arrived in Ms. Gutierrez' office while she was on the phone. She stopped talking and looked up at them with an aggravated expression, but seeing that Elliot was with them, realized that she couldn't just send them off. With a sigh, she told the person she was talking to that she'd have to call them back in a few minutes.

“How can I help you today, Elliot?”

“We just have a couple of quick questions, Ally,” Elliot assured her.

“Okay, shoot,” she ordered in agreement.

Janice grinned almost maniacally. “How long you been fucking Robert Ward?”

“What???” Ally blurted out in shock. “But h– huh?”

“Where do you usually fuck? Is he any good?”

“Wait! WHAT?!” Ally roared, leaping to her feet. She had dark brown hair that was naturally wavy. It framed her face and highlighted her matching eyes. She had very light brown skin that suggested her family had immigrated from Mexico at some point and intermarried, was a little shorter than average, and plump enough that someone stupid might call her fat to her face. She turned an interesting shade of red, but Harry honestly had to wonder if she was embarrassed or upset. Or both. “What makes you think that Rob would have sex with me when he has three other bit – uh, _women_ he screws regularly?”

“Because all three of them bitches said that you are the only person that Mr. Ward argues with regularly. In fact, _everyone_ says that you two fucking shout at each other all the damn time. If that's not an indication that you're fucking, then I don't know what the fuck is,” Janice informed her.

“It's an indication that he's an absolute _idiot_ who doesn't know how to manage his money! At the rate he's going, he's going to bankrupt this company in less than five years! I keep trying to get it through his thick skull that he needs to cut back on the waste of money that is the vast majority of R &D! But does he listen? _Nooo!_ He insists that this company _exists_ to research the craziest effin' ideas and develop them into even remotely marketable products! Do you have any idea what it's like to sit down with our marketing department and be like: Well, I know this product doesn't work and is utter crap, but _Rob_ wants it on the market, so just do your best to sell it. – It's shit! Shit I tell you! A waste of goddamn money! _And worse!_ The rest of the board of directors are on his side!!! They don't care if we lose money on practically _half_ of what we produce because the few things that _do_ sell make more than enough to keep us wealthy! I could just _kill_ them all!”

“So did you?” Janice asked with an intent expression.

This made Ally literally reel backwards a step from shock and press a hand to her heart. “Wha...” she cleared her throat. “What? What do you mean?”

“Did you fucking kill 'em?” Janice demanded.

Ally flung her hands out at Elliot. “The vice president's right there! Rob went on fucking vacation! And no one else is missing, so why the hell would you ask me that?!”

“Are you sure Mr. Ward went on vacation?” Dwayne asked.

“Of course I'm sure! Didn't he?” Ally asked with a frown. “I mean... where else would he have gone?” She pointed at her computer. “I checked and he didn't use any of his accounts for travel, nor did he withdraw any money recently, but he can Apparate, and he always carried a couple of thousand Dragots on him, so he could have easily just took off and went somewhere. He's been complaining of stress lately and actually _said_ he wanted to go on vacation.”

“Hmm...” Janice murmured. “You got anything you wanna fucking add, Harry?”

“Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt Mr. Ward?” Harry asked.

“Everybody loved Rob!” Ally exclaimed. “People were more likely to want to have sex with him than hurt him!”

“Do you know if anyone else was having sex with him – aside from the three we know of, that is?” Harry wondered.

“Uh... Well, I think he would go out randomly and just hook up, but... not recently. I _think_ he might actually have had a quickie with the janitor – because they were acting just _weird_ the other day – but he's not really bisexual, that I know of, so... I'm probably wrong about that.”

Harry sighed. “I think we're going to have to talk to this janitor. This is twice now that he's come up.”

“You think they ran off together?” Ally asked with deep interest. She pressed her finger to her lips. “Come to think of it... hasn't he called in sick the last couple of days?”

“Hmm... I'll have to ask Lydia in HR,” Elliot said. “I can never remember his name...”

“Good. Go do that and let me get back to work,” Ally demanded, flapping her hand at Elliot dismissively.

“Love you too, Ally,” Elliot murmured with a chuckle, rolling his eyes. He saw Harry look at him questioningly. “We're like family. We were in the same year in Ilvermorny.”

Harry looked Elliot up and down, and then looked Ally up and down. He felt weird for asking this since they were about the same age as him, but: “Aren't you both a bit young to be in charge of a company?”

Elliot shrugged. “Maybe, but Rob started the company when he was about my age, and he knew I was into it, so he'd have me come work for him when school was out for the summer. Ally's one of my best friends, so she'd come hang out with me and got interested in the company too. Her mother's an accountant and taught her the basics when she was practically still a baby, so when Rob realized that he needed someone good with money to do his accounting, he hired her – part time at first. But then when we graduated, he gave her the job permanently, promoting her to CFO when she proved that she knew what she was doing.”

“Without me keeping him in line, he probably would have gone bankrupt a couple years ago!”

Harry shook his head and frowned. “Wait, you keep saying that, but I was told that the finances for this company are good. That it makes a lot of money.”

“It does! But then that moron goes and wastes a lot of it on _useless_ ideas! I mean seriously! _Who_ is _ever_ going to want a tiny dragon that does nothing but breathe fire and poop all over everything?!”

“A dragon???” Draco questioned, perking up since he was more or less bored with this repetitive line of questioning. “How big a dragon?”

“It was like this big!” Ally exclaimed, forming a gap of about an inch with her fingers.

“Which kind of dragon?”

“I think it was a welsh green...”

“Was it really alive – being a real dragon that was shrunk down somehow – or was it simply a Draconifors cast on a tiny book?”

“Does that matter?” Ally asked in confusion.

“Yeah it matters!” Draco exclaimed. “It's the difference between a lifelike toy and a real live pet! There could be a lot of money in either, if I'm honest.”

Ally shook her hand at and then ended up pointing all her fingers at him. “See now, if the dragon did _anything_ other than light things on fire and leave poop everywhere, I'd agree with you, but it really was useless. Parents wouldn't buy it for their kids. Plus, I think it bit things, and it's bite could cause real problems.”

“Sounds like it could be real!” Contrary to expectations, Draco was more excited than ever. “Do you know what happened to this poor dragon you dislike so much?”

Ally threw her hands up in the air. “How would I know?! Go ask the D&D geek in R&D that made him!”

“D&D?” Draco asked in confusion.

Elliot chuckled. “Dungeons and Dragons. We sometimes have a game night, but that's been rare ever since we made the light-sabers. Come on, I'll introduce you to Chad after we ask about the janitor.”

They left Ally's office, Harry pausing to watch her for a moment through the glass. He really had to wonder why almost all the walls were made out of glass, especially since Robert apparently had sex in his office a lot. Wouldn't that eliminate all possibility of privacy? Ally picked up her phone, dialed a number, and then looked up to smile and wave at Harry when she noticed him watching her. With a shrug, he followed his companions.

As expected, a quick visit with Lydia in HR confirmed that Michael Ivankovich was out sick. However, he had been in yesterday, and so wasn't likely to have nearly murdered Robert Ward a few days back, come to work everyday since then, only to suddenly run off now. Even Harry was getting frustrated by the lack of substantial leads.

As promised, Elliot brought them to meet Chad, who went a bit bug eyed when he spotted Harry. Elliot patted him on the back. “Breathe... There we go. Tear your eyes off Harry Potter for a moment and meet Draco Malfoy. He heard about your dragon project and wants to know more.”

Chad cleared his throat in confusion a couple of times before his eyes lit up. This seemed to give him the ability to forget Harry and turn to face Draco. “How'd you hear about 'em?”

“Ms. Gutierrez,” Draco stated.

Chad laughed. “Still bitching about how unprofitable they are? Well, I guess I can't blame her. She only ever saw the babies. They can be trained a bit. Like cats. They're also finicky like cats. And actually, they can be assholes too. Basically, they're flying cats.” He laughed again. “But they're small.”

“Are they real dragons you shrank down somehow, or are they transfigured from books – or other things?” Draco asked curiously.

Chad immediately looked guilty. He grabbed Draco by the arm and dragged him a few feet away. “Will you swear to me that you'll _never_ tell anyone the secret?”

“Of course,” Draco stated, mostly honestly. He was a Slytherin and would totally tell if it benefited him somehow, but if there was nothing in it for him, he'd have no reason _to_ tell.

“Would you make a semi unbreakable vow?”

“Semi?” Draco questioned with a raised brow.

“It means that you _can_ tell if you _have_ to for any reason without dying, but anything that doesn't qualify as _have to_ will result in you being _unable_ to tell,” Chad explained.

“Er... alright...” Draco agreed, hesitant but dying to know.

With a nod, Chad dragged Draco over to a semi private conference room and had a good friend of his – that already knew the secret – cast the spell on them. Even then, Chad made sure that he faced away from the glass walls so that no one could read his lips. He also slung an arm over Draco's shoulders and talked very softly – in case anyone was trying to listen in.

“They're real. And by that, I _don't_ mean that they were shrunk as eggs – which, by the way – is the only way you _can_ shrink a dragon and have it stick. It has to be when they're first laid, otherwise it won't work as well. If you try it once they're hatched, they're already resistant to magic and will revert back to their normal size within a couple of hours. That said, good luck getting past their mother to shrink them!”

He laughed and shook his head before sighing. “Anyway, as I was saying, they're real. They're a species of dragon that _used_ to be native to America centuries upon centuries ago, but they were causing so much trouble for the various tribes that they were being hunted to extinction. _Then_ some enterprising wizard – one of my ancestors actually – decided that the best way to save them _and_ stop them from being such pests was to just shrink them. He just so happened to witness a colony be wiped out, and he went in and shrunk all the eggs before the hunters could think to smash them – or eat 'em. As I said, it didn't always work. Most of the eggs resulted in dragons that were smaller – yes – but still big enough to be a nuisance. They eventually got themselves killed too. That said, a few of the eggs resulted in tiny dragons. Those – and others my ancestor managed to save over the course of his lifetime – formed a colony. For the most part, our family – and others who've discovered the colony – have left them alone, but we _also_ have a tradition of choosing one and training it as a child.”

He stopped and frowned as something occurred to him. “Both of us, that is. The dragon is a baby _and_ me and my ancestors were children when we went and picked one out. They're like cats. So long as you treat them nice when they're babies and take good care of them, they'll bond with you and _mostly_ do what you train them to.”

Draco was practically giddy by this point. If he wasn't so dignified, he might have either jumped for joy, or threw his arms around this stranger's neck and snogged the hell out of him. “They're real!”

“I know, right?! How cool is that?!” Chad agreed with a grin.

“How can I obtain one? Do I have to go steal one from it's mother?” Draco asked with a frown.

“Oh no!” Chad assured him, flapping a hand dismissively. “I actually, um, stole a whole bunch of them back when I thought I could get away with selling them as extremely lifelike toys – or pets. Did you know that the no-maj are _crazy_ about electronic 'pets?' They're these little devices that have digital faces and you have to push buttons to 'feed' them or they starve. It's weird! I thought these would be best sellers, but as babies, they're more trouble than they're worth. Now that they're fully grown and trained – or at least as trained as they're going to get – I was going to ask Rob to consider letting me sell them again.”

“So you'll sell me one?” Draco persisted.

“What color would you like?” Chad asked.

“Blue is my favorite color, but otherwise gold, silver, or purple. Green if it's all you have,” Draco rambled.

“Actually, I have this absolutely _gorgeous_ one that's a sort of slate blue with gold accents. Hold on a sec...” Chad stuck his tongue out just a bit as he scrunched his face up and stuck his hand in a pouch around his neck. He swirled his hand around, obviously concentrating very hard. Suddenly he looked like he had an epiphany. “Aha! Gotcha!” Sure enough, he pulled the exact dragon he'd described out of the pouch and held it out for Draco to see. “What d'ya think?”

“It's _beautiful_...” Draco exhaled reverently. He couldn't help but stroke a finger along the dragon's spine. It was about four inches from head to tail – with another four inches of tail. It's wingspan – when they stretched out – was about six inches across, although they folded up to practically nothing. If a person wasn't paying attention, they'd assume it was a bluebird. It's black eyes scrutinized Draco before hopping onto Draco's arm.

Draco raised his arm so that he and the dragon were eye to eye. Both of them tilted their head side to side as they regarded each other. It was love at first sight for Draco.

“If her throat seems to swell up, close your eyes and keep them shut – and you should probably extend your arm out as far as possible too,” Chad warned. After a few more moments, he added: “She seems to like you. Hasn't spit fire at you yet. I actually don't know how or if they'll bond once they're already grown, so I hope you'll write to me and let me know how it goes.”

Draco didn't look away from the dragon for even a second as he accepted the business card in his other hand and stashed it in his pocket. Suddenly, it almost seemed like the dragon smiled – although it couldn't actually smile. Then she dipped her head in a sign of clear respect, stepping forward to rub her head against Draco's cheek.

“Aww! She likes you!” Chad purred happily. “I'll owl you everything you need to know in order to care for her, but honestly, she's just like a cat. Feed her mice, insects, birds, frogs, things like that – or let her hunt for her own food. I breed mice and feed them mostly that, but they definitely like variety when they can get it. Also, my ancestors taught them to turn invisible at some point to avoid being caught by no-maj. So, if you set her on your shoulder, she'll somehow notice when a no-maj is around and disappear. They _love_ to be adored, and so long as you pay attention to her regularly, she'll be loyal to you, but if you neglect her, she'll fly away. That said, they can seem to track their owners all over the world, so even if you think you've lost her, she'll probably turn up when you least expect her. I think that's the most important stuff to know... um... I'd like 250 Dragots for her.”

Draco bit his lip. It took a moment for his brain to translate that, but he remembered that their Dragot was equal to 20 dollars – which was roughly equal to about 10 pounds, which was roughly equal to 2 Galleons. Thus, he was asking for 500 Galleons – give or take the exact rate of exchange. Draco _really_ needed to study up on that.

“Well, all I really have on me is Galleons. That said, you can easily exchange them at your bank.”

“Galleons, huh? How many Galleons to a Dragot?” Chad inquired.

“To be honest, I'm not entirely certain, but I _think_ it's approximately two Galleons to a Dragot,” Draco informed him.

“Alright, I tell you what, if you promise to answer any questions I have and keep in touch with me so that I can see how well she does, I'll accept your Galleons – and even if you're wrong about the exchange rate, I'll consider you paid in full.”

Draco accepted this with a nod. He then summoned 500 Galleons out of his money pouch and levitated them over to Chad – who directed them into his own money pouch. Then they shook hands.

“Good doing business with you,” Chad said with a smile.

“You as well,” Draco agreed with a respectful nod. He left his new dragon on his wrist so that he could pet her with his other hand as he exited the conference room.

 

***

 

Draco was delighted that his new pet was more than happy to curl up in his lap so he could stroke her back with one hand as his other held some papers he was reading. She couldn't quite purr like a cat, but she did make a sound reminiscent of a crackling fire. She'd turn around in circles so that Draco could pet different places, and even rubbed her face against his fingers, hand, and lap.

Meanwhile, Harry was sitting next to him on the sofa in their hotel room, watching him in amusement as he was also trying to read through some of the paperwork Elliot had given them. Janice and Dwayne had gone home for the night, both needing to catch up on some of that sleep they'd missed out on the night before.

“Hmm...” Draco frowned and sort of growled at the paper he was consulting. “Either MACUSA gave us bad information on purpose, or else their own information is seriously outdated.”

“How's that?” Harry asked, only half paying attention.

“Well, the paperwork we signed concerning our payment said that American Muggle money was worth about _twice_ as much as British muggle money. But according to this paper I had the concierge print up for me, the actual exchange rate is 72 percent – _meaning_ that for every American dollar, you'd receive 72 percent of a British pound. That means we're getting paid a little more than they think we are. Which isn't really important, I suppose, I just find it weird,” Draco explained.

Harry shrugged. “Why is it weird?”

“Just that you'd think their accounting department would have wanted to be as accurate as possible,” Draco answered.

“Maybe Samuel Quahog had his secretary write up the paperwork and she gave it her best guess,” Harry suggested.

“Probably,” Draco agreed with a nod. “The muggle pound to Galleon rate is currently 4.98 – Meaning not quite five pounds per Galleon.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “That much I actually knew, thanks to Hermione. And actually, running my own business in which a surprising amount of my clients are muggles. They pay in muggle money.”

“ _So_ , if we're getting paid 20 Dragots a day – plus expenses – and we know that each Dragot is worth 20 muggle dollars, that means that we're getting 400 muggle dollars a day. Multiply that by 72 percent and that's... 288. Divide that by 4.98 and... 57 point... what 8?”

“I dunno,” Harry hummed with a baffled shrug.

“That's because you're a moron, Potter,” Draco informed him almost fondly. He summoned a piece of paper and worked it out. “57.831 – that's close enough since I don't really need to work this out to the exact decimal point. We're getting nearly 58 Galleons a day. So...” he trailed off and worked out how much he'd actually paid for his dragon. 500 Galleons equals 2,490 muggle pounds, divided by 72 percent equals 3,458.33 American dollars divided by 20 equals 172.92... Crap! He'd under paid! By nearly 75 Dragots! That irritated him since he _hated_ coming across as a scrooge. That said, he'd told Chad honestly that he wasn't sure about the exchange rate, and Chad had accepted the payment anyway, so he didn't need to feel guilty.

Now, because Draco was obsessed with learning this _exactly_ , he worked out a direct Galleon to Dragot exchange rate. One equals 20 over .72, cross multiply and divide... equals .36 – Is that right? One Galleon equals .36 a Dragot? Hmm... now to check it. 500 Galleons multiplied by 36 percent equals... 180. Damn it! He was off, but he wasn't sure where he'd gone wrong. 500 times 35 percent equaled 175 and times 34 percent was 170 – which was now too low. So, it had to be 34.5 percent – no! That was only 172.5. Hmm... and 34.6 percent was 173, which was _just_ over the 172.92.

Glaring at the piece of paper and growling, Draco eventually worked out that the _exact_ exchange rate was 34.584 percent – which equaled 172.92 when he multiplied it by the 500 Galleons he paid for his dragon.

Now that he had the right exchange rate to use, he was ready to tackle the financial paperwork regarding MagTech he'd gotten from Samuel Quahog when they arrived. The report had a _lot_ of money broken into various accounts – the company expense accounts, the payroll accounts, marketing accounts, and – biggest of all – was the general profit and income account before it was divided into the smaller accounts so that the budget could be controlled at all times. It all looked more or less normal to Draco, who had experience doing the accounting for a large fortune and several business interests.

The page that was the current balance and list of transactions going back a couple of weeks for Robert's personal bank account was much easier to get through. Draco had to admit the man had earned himself a decent amount of money with his company. It wasn't anywhere _near_ the Malfoy fortune, but still enough to support a person in luxury for a lifetime if they suddenly quit working. He held the paper up so that Harry could see it.

“Oi, Potter, forget about converting this to _our_ money, just look at this balance and tell me if it's more or less than your fortune.”

“I've got no idea,” Harry stated with a clueless shrug. “I have a vault with a huge pile of gold in it from my parents, and then I have another vault with a huge pile of gold in it from my godfather. Together, it's an enormous pile of gold. I take from it as I need – which isn't really all that often – and do most of my banking through my muggle money account.”

“Plebeian,” Draco muttered, setting the paper aside. He grabbed the financial report that Elliot had printed up today. He knew that it should be more or less exactly the same – since the first one had been printed when Robert Ward first went missing and it was only a few days later, but still, Draco hadn't been of any help at all so far, and he had nothing better to do at the moment, so he might as well look it over.

Almost immediately, he noticed that the numbers were off by more than they should be. Actually, the amounts in the expense and payroll accounts were normal, it was the _income_ account that was suddenly missing quite a lot of money. Looking back and forth between the two reports, Draco double and triple checked that he wasn't misreading things.”

“That's odd...”

“What's odd?” Harry asked.

“There's money missing,” Draco informed him, setting the two reports side by side on the coffee table. He shifted his dragon off his lap since she'd fallen asleep anyway. “Look here. I don't care if you understand anything at all about the reports themselves, just look at this amount here and this amount here... you can see how it's suddenly about 50,000 less. And actually, a couple of these say they're transfers to other accounts, but the money didn't stay in those accounts. That's another... 75,000.”

Draco looked over the marketing report. “There's another 25,000 or so missing from here... and... whoa! Over a 100,000 missing from Ward's personal account!”

“Who would have access to withdraw all that money?” Harry asked with a puzzled frown.

“Well, Ward probably, possibly his brother, but almost certainly that woman – Gutierrez,” Draco stated.

“Bloody hell! She's probably planning to run!” Harry burst out in alarm. “I've gotta call Quahog!” He rushed over to the phone and dialed the President of MACUSA's personal number – which went to his cellphone, which he had given Harry in with the packet of information regarding the case.

To his delight, just fifteen minutes later, he received a return call from Samuel inviting them to watch – but sadly not participate – as MACUSA sent in their best teams of Aurors (including a groggy Dwayne and Janice) to detain Alison Gutierrez. She was nervously waiting for a flight to the Maldives – which was not only a popular vacation spot – being comprised of many beautiful islands with resorts – but _also_ a place without an extradition treaty.

Janice walked right over to her and sat down with a smile. “Did you think we wouldn't find you just because you chose a fucking no-maj airport rather than a shitty little Portkey?”

“What?” Alison asked in confusion. “Why would I go through the trouble of obtaining a Portkey from MACUSA when it's just easier to take a plane for my vacation? And why would you be looking for me?”

“Don't act like a dumb ass! We know what you fucking did to Robert Ward,” Janice informed her.

Alison stiffened and subtly reached for her wand.

Janice held out her hand in a gesture that commanded her to stop. “Uh-uh-uh! If you take a look around you, you'll not only see my partner, Harry Potter and _his_ partner, Draco Malfoy, but you'll find practically _all_ the fucking Aurors in our goddamn department. We've already set up Anti-Apparation wards, and there's nowhere you can run. I said it once but I'll say it again, don't be a dumb ass! We've caught you fair and fucking square.”

Alison looked around, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw that she really was surrounded and that the Aurors had cleared the area so that they could all point wands at her without the no-maj seeing them, she threw her hands in the air.

“I didn't mean to kill him! I _love_ Rob! He's the love of my life! We were actually sort of together! I'd spend almost every night at his house, and I thought he loved me too, so I asked him to give up his other women for me, but he refused! He refused _after_ we'd just had mind blowing sex on the damn couch! I fucking snapped! I mean if he can do that with me, then _why_ does he need those other bitches?! I cast a spell – I don't even _know_ what it was! And the next thing I knew, he was on the ground and bleeding everywhere. His skull was broke open and he was staring right through me but the life had left his eyes! I panicked and transfigured him into a rose bush before I ran and tried to figure out what to do! I don't want to go to jail for the rest of my life because he was unable to form a meaningful commitment!”

She was wailing by this point and Janice was actually rubbing her on the back as if in commiseration. Janice smiled and shook her head.

“I _knew_ you were fucking him! I was ready to haul your ass in earlier, but you managed to throw me off because while you never admitted to the fucking affair, you never actually lied by denying it either. I'm a little impressed! You totally had me fucking fooled!”

Dwayne held his hand out and helped Alison to her feet so that he could arrest her. He read her her rights according to the magical community _and_ how they differed from the no-maj community – which wasn't much, just that she could be tried and punished much more swiftly than no-maj criminals since the magical community was smaller and had a lot less criminals to prosecute.

As Dwayne escorted her past Harry, he grinned. “I _told_ you that Janice could almost always solve a case by analyzing their sex lives. She may not have done so on this one, but you have to admit, she was close.”

Harry shrugged, silently admitting that yes, Janice had seemed to know that something was going on, and thus, was on the right track.

Draco grinned rather smugly. “Be that as it may, I take full credit for actually _reading_ all that paperwork we were given and figuring out what had happened.”

Janice rolled her eyes. “That was our first fucking priority tomorrow morning, so we _would_ have noticed the discrepancy ourselves.”

Draco gestured to indicate the entire airport. “Looks like it would have been too late.”

Janice grumbled, not wanting to admit he was right, but not able to claim he was wrong either. Still highly smug, Draco chuckled as she pushed past him and helped her partner take their prisoner into custody. At this rate, he was considering asking or maybe demanding that President Quahog give them each a large bonus for solving _their_ case too!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The funny thing is that I sort of love Janice, but I get annoyed writing her because my motto is to tone down the swearing, so once I accomplished my challenge with her, I wrote her out of the story, even though no one else had read it yet or complained about her, lol.


	7. The Case of the Stolen Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is told of a case where a boat was stolen and is in International Waters - and thus out of the government's jurisdiction. So, he and Draco go to offer to recover it for a fee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to anyone who is actually waiting for an update to this story. I've been half writing here and there on chapter 14 while I squee over Oi Potter, so that's why I haven't been posting as often as I had planned :-)
> 
> And for those that didn't like Janice, she's not in the story anymore :-)

 

 

“I'm so glad the two of you could take the time to meet with me today,” Samuel said with a smile. “I know you're probably anxious to get home –” Harry and Draco had stayed an entire extra day so that they could walk around and see some of the nicer landmarks, but had plans to take a Portkey home in about an hour. “But I just – well, I have something that might interest you.”

He gestured for them to sit down and get comfortable. “We monitor some of the communications in the no-maj government just in case something happens that concerns us. This particular case actually does not, but it seems right up your alley. There's a boat that was stolen from a pier in Miami and is on it's way to Haiti. The owner of the boat is willing to pay a lot of money to get it back, the problem is that it's officially in International Waters and our country can't legally go out and recover it.”

Harry frowned in thought. “So... you're suggesting that we get in touch with the owner and take the job of recovering it for money?”

Samuel shrugged, spread his hands wide, and shook his head as if asking:  _this is the sort of thing you do, right_ ? Harry tilted his head to the side and nodded. It's true, his business was helping people solve problems that they couldn't just solve on their own or by going to the police.

“You're still cleared to work in this country as an Independent Consultant, but you're _also_ not an official, so your hands aren't tied by jurisdiction. Meaning you can go where you need to in order to recover the boat. That said, if they make it into waters of another country, you'd have to abide by their laws.”

“So our best bet is to recover the boat before they reach any other country?” Draco stated more than asked.

“ _Our_?” Harry question with a raised brow.

Draco shrugged. “I still haven't done anything to clearly pay off my debt, so why not?”

“Alright,” Harry agreed mildly.

“It seems you're interested in the job,” Samuel remarked with a smile. “Excellent! I'll have your Portkey to London canceled and one to Miami created. Here's a file with all the information we know – including the owner's name and address. You'll have to go to his house and talk with him. One last thing, I understand that traveling around a foreign country can be difficult, and since it is such an honor to have you in our country – not to mention I may have other cases for you to work on in the future – I've decided to make things as easy as possible for you. Whenever you are in the United States – or U.S. Territories – you can simply call up my secretary and let her know where you are and she'll book you a hotel room on MACUSA's Dragot. Consider it my way of saying that I'm looking forward to working with you again in the future.”

“Er... thanks...” Harry murmured, stunned by the generosity. Considering how much the Governor's Suite must have cost, he was sure this was no small thing. Even so, he wasn't about to look a gift Hippogriff in the beak.

“Can I offer a small piece of advice?” Samuel asked with a fond smile.

“Of course,” Harry accepted.

“You're broom is a Firebolt, correct?”

“Yeah...”

“A Firebolt can fly twice as fast – or more – as the boat's top speed, so you may be tempted to fly after them, but they've had quite a head start by this point. You'd be better off trying to map out the route they're likely traveling and finding an island – no matter how small – that's on the route. Send me the coordinates and I'll send you a Portkey. That'll not only save you _hours_ of flying, but it'll probably be almost the only way you'll catch up to them in time.”

“Why are you helping us quite this much?” Draco asked suspiciously.

Samuel tilted his head side to side as he nodded. “I can understand why you'd be suspicious, but Portkeys are the right of any witch or wizard who's not on the 'no-fly' list. You would be well within your rights to apply for one at any local office, but why make you go through all that trouble when my secretary can expedite the process with simple phone call? As I said, I want to make working with you in the future as appealing as possible.”

Draco shrugged and nodded to admit that he had a point but was still suspicious.

“Well, if that's everything, gentlemen, then I'm afraid I have to say goodbye for now. It'll take about a half an hour to obtain the Portkey to Miami – even with expedited processing – so you have a little time to take care of any last minute needs before you leave.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed as he stood up and shook Samuel's hand. 

Draco stood up and shook his hand too. “Where's the nearest place I can make an international floo call?”

“My secretary can lead you to a private meeting room for that.”

With a nod of understanding, Draco exited the President's office and asked the secretary for exactly that. Harry followed him, waiting outside the door so that he could make a call of his own when Draco was done. Once in the room with the door shut, Draco let his dragon explore the room while he used a conveniently place window-like fireplace in front of a comfortable chair to make his call.

“Draco, darling!” Narcissa greeted in delight when she spotted her son's head in the fireplace.

“Good afternoon, mum,” Draco greeted in return, knowing that it was midmorning in NYC, and so, afternoon in Wiltshire.

“Aren't you coming home in an hour or so?” She asked in confusion since that was what he'd told them in his last firecall the night before.

“There's been a change of plans,” Draco informed her. “Potter and I have decided to take a job in one of the southern states called Florida. It's supposedly a nice and sunny place, and all we need to do is help a man recover a stolen boat. Shouldn't take too long.”

“Oh Draco, why are you doing this? This is not your problem. Let someone else take the job,” Narcissa insisted fretfully.

Draco shook his head. “No, we already agreed. And besides, I'm rather shockingly having fun. Potter's being less of an arse than I expected, and some of the things I've had a chance to do so far are things I'd  _never_ get to do at home. For example, I bought a pet dragon.”

“You... what?! But! Dragons are not only illegal but highly dangerous! You _can't_ keep it!”

“Calm down, mother,” Draco murmured in amusement. “She's barely bigger than my palm.” 

“That doesn't matter! She'll grow to be as big as a mountain in a matter of months!” 

“Mum! She's full grown! She's a breed of miniature dragon, and she's gorgeous. My point is that I'd've never known about her if I hadn't come on this trip with Potter. I may have started with the intention to simply pay off my debt, but now I'm actually curious as to what I might see or do next. I just wanted to let you know not to expect me home soon after all.”

Narcissa inhaled a deep breath and held it for a long moment. “Alright,” she agreed with a soft sigh. “Have fun. Just  _promise_ me that you'll be careful!”

Draco grinned at her. “I wouldn't know how to be anything else.”

She tilted her head side to side to admit that he had a point. He'd survived a war by being careful not to truly anger their Lord while doing whatever he had to. He knew when to duck for cover and hide until the time was right.

“Alright. I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you too,” Draco assured her. He pulled his head out of the fire to find his dragon standing on his arm smelling the magical flames curiously. Grinning, he stroked her back. “And I love you as well.”

She preened, rubbing her face against his hand. He walked over and opened the door. Harry surprised him by smiling at his dragon and rubbing her head with his pointer finger. She leaned into it, flapping her wings and turning in circles.

“I forgot to tell you that your dragon was trying to lick my eye this morning while I was sleeping,” Harry murmured. “She was what woke me up, but I didn't mind as I was reminded of my dog. Besides, she's beautiful, aren't you, Adira?” 

“Adira?” Draco asked with an unamused expression.

“Yeah, it's a cross between adore and my dear,” Harry explained. “It just seemed to fit her.”

“You _named_ my dragon?!” Draco growled, not sure whether to be merely upset or extremely irate.

Harry frowned. “Er... sorry. I didn't mean to, it just came out, and she seemed to really like the name.”

Draco paused to look at his dragon, who was now climbing up his arm to snuggle in the crook of his neck. Now that he'd had a moment to think about it, she was a dear and he did adore her. With a sigh, he ground out: “ _Fine..._ ” He stroked her again. “Adira  _is_ a fitting name for her.”

Grinning, Harry entered the room, not caring if Draco stayed or left. He tossed some powder into the fire and made a call to Ron and Hermione's flat.

“Harry!”

“Afternoon Mione,” Harry greeted with a smile.

“You're lucky I just got home from work. Why are you calling? I thought you were due to come home in less than an hour,” Hermione pointed out with a puzzled frown.

“That's why I'm calling. I'm taking another job. I need you to call Shevvie and tell her to make sure my house is taken care of, and if she runs out of food for Zoë, will you go buy more since you have a key to my vault. Actually, don't you also have a card to my muggle bank account?”

“Yes I do and yes I will,” Hermione promised with a small smile.

“Thanks, you're the best!” Harry cheered. 

“I know,” she acknowledged with a smirk.

“Tell Ron, Molly, Arthur, and everyone else that I love them. Love you too,” Harry stated.

“Love you, Harry, and just do your best not to die recklessly for a _job_ ,” Hermione ordered.

“I make no promises,” Harry informed her cheekily.

She flapped her hand at him dismissively and he blew her a kiss before pulling his head out of the fire.

After that, Harry barely had time to change and go to the loo before a house elf in service to MACUSA popped up and handed him a pizza box. He accepted it with a grin.

“I was just thinking that I'm getting hungry,” he murmured.

“Sir's Portkey is scheduled to leave in five minutes,” the elf said before leaving.

“This is...” Harry trailed off as he checked inside the box. It was empty. “Bugger!”

Draco snickered, checking his pocket watch. They were both wearing their muggle suits – having changed in the loo – so as to look professional for their prospective client. Draco made a mental note that if they continued to work together in the future, he'd have to add a little variety to their wardrobes so that they weren't stuck wearing the same thing all the time – no matter how nice the suits were.

When it was nearly time to go, Draco took hold of the box too, holding his breath until the key activated and yanked them off down the country. Unlike with MACUSA's official Portkey room, which the travel wizards were able to program the keys with  _exact_ landing coordinates, most Portkeys had to be made using general coordinates. This meant that they were specific to the location, but usually several feet in the air to avoid colliding with things on the ground – or the ground itself if it was a hill. Thus, Harry once more found himself falling when released by the Portkey, whereas Draco apparently knew the floating spell so he could “walk” down to the ground.

“Moron,” Draco accused with a laugh.

Harry waited for the ability to breathe to return. “Git,” he croaked as he turned and got on his hands and knees.

Draco gave him a hand up, and then cast cleaning spells on Harry's suit. “Next time, try to remember that you're a wizard and learned Wingardium Leviosa in First Year.”

“Seriously? _That's_ the spell?” Harry asked incredulously. “ _Why_ didn't anyone ever tell me that?!”

Draco shrugged. “They probably mistook you for someone with enough intelligence to figure it out on his own.”

Harry glared at him unappreciatively but couldn't exactly argue at the moment. After consulting the map included in the file, Harry discovered that the Portkey had landed them just down the street from their potential client. They walked in relative silence until they reached the gate protecting the large mansion. Shrugging, Harry pressed a button on a little speaker box on a pole. It was at a height perfect for someone in a car or a truck, so Harry had to bend over slightly to speak into it.

“Weston residence, may I help you?”

“Hello, my name is Harry Potter. My, er, _partner_ Draco Malfoy and I heard through various government channels that Mr. Weston would quite like his boat recovered and we'd like to offer our services.”

There was a moment of silence before the gate opened. Harry and Draco walked toward the main entrance of the mansion but were intercepted in the driveway. A rich looking man held up his hands reassuringly as a half dozen burly men in cheap black suits surrounded them and scanned them with a handheld scanner.

“They're unarmed.”

The rich man – Mr. Weston – frowned. “That's unexpected, but smart I suppose. It means you're trying to prove that you're not a threat. That remains to be seen, but I'll give you a chance.” He beckoned them to follow him into the mansion. “I'm running out of options at this point. I think the only way my boat'll be recovered before it's too late is if the Air Force sent in high speed jets, but my so-called buddies in the army refuse to waste man-hours and valuable resources for private property.”

“What's so important about this boat?” Harry wondered.

“Oh sure, I could just file an insurance claim and buy a new one, but I have something of irreplaceable sentimental value in the safe in the bedroom,” Mr. Weston explained. “I'm certain that no one has even found the safe yet – and no one would even _know_ it's there to look for. That said, if they take the boat apart for parts, or if they sell it to a buyer – chances are that the safe will be found and cut open. I don't care if the boat is destroyed in the attempt to recover it, but I want that safe returned no matter what. I'll pay you 5000 dollars each if all you manage is to bring me my safe. Unopened. More if you recover the entire boat.”

Draco spent a few minutes discussing what they should do if the safe was already opened when they found the boat. That turned into a minor argument as Mr. Weston wanted to refuse payment at all in that situation, but Draco persuaded him that they should not be held accountable for circumstances beyond their control if they otherwise completed the job. Mr. Weston reluctantly agreed, but it was apparent that he didn't really believe that Draco and Harry were going to accomplish the task.

“I have a tracking device on my boat. That's how I knew it had been stolen when I woke up this morning. I was drinking my coffee and noticed that my boat was two hundred or so miles from where it should be.” He pulled out a map and pointed to a spot on the coast. “This is where it should be. This is where it was when I noticed it missing, and...” he consulted a computer screen. “This is where it currently is. According to this trajectory, they're headed to Haiti – right about here.”

Harry followed the line on the map with his finger and found an abundance of smaller islands between the boat and Haiti. It seemed that it had already gone around a big group of islands called the Bahamas, and was loosely following the line of islands that lined the map all the way toward Haiti – with Cuba on the other side of the line. Which meant that it could theoretically stop at any one of them. Harry chose one on the way – as Samuel suggested. The gigantic map on the wall even conveniently had coordinates listed that made Harry's job easier. He wrote them down on a piece of paper in his file on the case.

“Can I use your phone?” Harry asked.

“Sure thing,” Mr. Weston permitted, gesturing to a phone on a desk off to the side.

Harry picked it up and called Samuel's secretary. She answered with a cheerful voice. “Mr. Quahog's office, Hannah speaking.”

“Hannah, it's Harry.”

“Hi Harry! Ready for your next Portkey already?” Hannah asked.

“Yep,” he confirmed, reading off the coordinates to her.

“No problem, I'll have that delivered to you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured sincerely as he hung up the phone. He turned back to Mr. Weston. “I assume that once we've recovered your boat, you'll want us to return it to the pier it was stolen from?”

“Yes,” Mr. Weston confirmed with a nod. “I'm having better security installed as we speak. Just remember, if they chase you and you manage to reach U.S. Waters, call the coast guard to come assist you. I'd naturally called them first thing, but they said it was already too late. However, they promised to send extra patrols to the general area in case the thieves had to turn back for any reason.”

“Good to know,” Harry murmured in understanding. “Come on, Malfoy, let's get to work.”

“Right,” Draco stated in agreement.

They left the mansion, walking in the general direction of the coast along the road.

“Something doesn't feel right,” Draco grumbled.

“I know,” Harry agreed. “But the only thing we have to worry about is recovering the boat and bringing it back.”

“You mean _stealing_ it from criminals,” Draco pointed out. “Probably heavily armed criminals.”

“I'm still not worried,” Harry said, shrugging. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Draco admitted.

“Good. We'll... come here a minute,” Harry dragged him behind a large bush so that they had a bit of privacy while Harry summoned his cloak and broom out of his pouch. He had them both mount the broom before swirling the cloak around both of them. “We'll grab some nosh while we wait for the Portkey to be delivered.”

The mansion had been very close to a private beach, and following the coastline quickly brought them to a public beach and a plethora of places to get food and drinks. Harry picked one that bragged about having the best seafood in Florida. It had a decent queue to suggest that it might actually be telling the truth. He ordered crabcakes and fries while Draco ordered a grilled tuna steak with steamed veggies. They sat in mildly awkward silence at their table while they waited for their order.

Their food arrived surprisingly quickly and they were about halfway through eating it when a MACUSA elf popped up under their table. “Here's sir's Portkey.”

“Thank you,” Harry murmured as he took the plush toy orca.

“It leaves in five minutes,” the elf added.

Harry nodded in understanding just before the elf disappeared. He then held up his hand to beckon their waitress. “Excuse me, but we need two to go boxes!”

She rushed to bring them the boxes, also accepting the payment of muggle money – American dollars – that Harry'd received as payment for solving the Ward case. Incidentally, Robert was already doing a little better, able to write coherently now, even though he was still suffering from rather severe aphasia. He'd confirmed Alison Gutierrez' story.

Once ready to go, they had just enough time to finish their drinks and find a place to “disappear” before the Portkey activated. It spit them out in the sky above Man of War Cay, a small island with only about 300 residents – or so the sign said as they floated above the town.

“Shit! This could go badly if we're spotted,” Harry blurted out. He'd remembered to cast the Leviosa, and now hastily grabbed his broom and cloak. 

Just as they were mounting the broom, a man called out to them as he gave them an impertinent salute: “Ahoy there! Have a good day!” He called after them as they sped off, Harry swirling his cloak around them, which they tucked between their feet the best they could to prevent anything from showing.

With a sigh of relief that nothing too bad had happened, Harry pulled out his wand. Considering that he was looking for an object – as opposed to a person – he knew that his point me spell  _should_ work. Even without anything to focus on. At least it had for his Firebolt, but then again, he knew every millimeter of his broom. It's possible that he couldn't visualize the boat well enough from the pictures, so he decided to focus of the identifying features, such as the name and registration numbers. 

“Point Me boat named Fiona's Joy!” Happily, his wand promptly began to glow and point in the direction Harry knew the boat should be if it hadn't changed course. He turned to talk to Draco. “Remind me to sweep Hermione off her feet and give her a good and proper kiss for creating this spell for me!”

“I'd be interested in seeing that simply to watch how your weasel reacts,” Draco drawled in amusement.

“Yeah, Ron'd probably murder me,” Harry admitted with a laugh.

It didn't take too long for the super fast Firebolt to catch up with the speedy yacht. Or at least that's what Harry thought the style of boat was called. It was like a resort cabin that floated and could race around the ocean at top speeds. He turned his head to Draco again.

“We're going to fly around and stun anyone we see before landing.”

“Nonverbal?” Draco asked.

“Probably best,” Harry agreed. They quickly stunned the four men they could see on deck, landed, and snuck around until they stunned the remaining two men. Draco cast a spell to reveal if there was any other human life on board to confirm that they'd gotten them all.

“That went surprisingly easier than I expected,” Draco murmured with a wary frown as he looked all around the boat one more time.

Harry took control of the wheel and turned the boat so that it was headed toward Man of War Cay once more. “Hey, can you conjure ropes and incarcerate them? Just in case they wake up.”

“Potter, you kinky sod! But alright, seems prudent,” Draco muttered in agreement.

Harry chuckled. “I actually haven't tied anyone up while shagging, but it sounds like you must have, so  _who's_ the kinky sod?”

Draco harrumphed a laugh, but didn't confirm or deny it.

In less than an hour, they were in sight of the island. The moment they were close enough, Harry cast a Mobilicorpus on the entire group of thieves – who were now tied together but still unconscious. He then conjured a note saying:  _we stole a boat, were caught and evicted, please call in the authorities to deal with us._ After attaching the note to the men, he levitated them over to an empty patch of beach on the narrow part of the island. He was confident that the island was small enough that someone would spot them fairly quickly.

Once the men were safely on land, Harry turned the boat back toward Miami and sped off. “I've got no idea how well this boat can handle traveling at top speed for long periods of time, so I'm going to set it for about three quarters speed. That said, it has an autopilot, so I  _should_ be able to look around the boat and only keep an eye out to make sure we don't crash into anything or go off course.”

“When did you learn to drive a muggle boat?” Draco wondered.

“Actually, I had to learn a little bit for a job I worked a few months back, but they make it easy enough that it's not hard to figure out,” Harry admitted.

“So you could teach me?” Draco asked, trying not to sound _too_ interested.

“Yeah. We should have plenty of time. And in fact, it might look weird if we returned to Miami before we've even had enough time to intercept the boat by muggle means,” Harry reasoned.

“Are all your jobs this easy? I mean it took you two days to solve the Ward case – well, actually one to find him and one for me to figure out who nearly murdered him – and now, it's less than two hours since you took on this case and we're already practically done. It doesn't seem logical,” Draco mused with a concerned frown.

“I told you most of my cases were boring,” Harry reminded him with a shrug. “Stunning someone from under my cloak is just about the most exciting it gets.”

“Huh...” Draco murmured, not knowing what else to say.

About two minutes later, Harry found himself channeling Janice: “God fucking damnit! Bend me over and bugger me dry!”

“Problem?” Draco inquired in amusement.

Harry flung his hands out to indicate the bundles that were in the process of being removed from the safe normally hidden in the floor of the Master bedroom of the boat. “Drugs, money; sentimentality my arse!”

“Is that really _our_ problem?” Draco asked shrewdly.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and let out a long suffering sigh. “I  _suppose_ not. Mr. Weston went through government channels to recover this, so he can't be too surprised if the government catches him with it.”

“Unless he's counting on them catching _us_ with it,” Draco pointed out pragmatically.

Harry hung his head and sighed again. “Well lucky for us that we're wizards. We can Disillusion the boat.”

“We _can't_ Disillusion an entire boat of this size!” Draco exclaimed with an expression like he'd love to bash Harry over the head with a spellbook.

“Why not?” Harry wondered with a curious frown.

“That would take an enormous amount of power!” Draco informed him.

“Really? Hermione and I used to Disillusion our entire campsite all the time – among other spells – and it was only a little smaller than this. In fact, that's exactly what we should do!” Harry promptly cast all the spells that Hermione had taught him when they were on the run from Voldemort and couldn't risk being caught. When he was done, the boat was a moving fortress of safety.

Draco was staring over the side of the boat where the circle of wards skimmed over the surface of the water. Actually, he realized that they might actually be a bubble, going into the water without popping – which would explain why waves and splashes didn't effect it either. “That shouldn't be possible...”

Harry pointed at the water. “I'm pretty sure one of the wards protects all the others from being broken by little things. They  _can't_ keep a werewolf and his cronies out if they know the wards are there, but nothing short of an accidental invitation spoken out of stupidity and ignorance should alert anyone to our presence.”

“A werewolf, hmm...” Draco murmured in thought. “Greyback... Snatchers... Easter...”

“I suppose they'd probably break if we crashed into something, so I'd better change course a bit before we get anywhere near that cruise ship over there,” Harry added.

Draco followed him curiously. True to his word, Harry disengaged the auto pilot and gestured for Draco to take the wheel. Then he grinned.

“Just play with it until you figure it out. I'll keep watch and if it looks like you're getting too close to that boat or anything else, then I'll fix it, but you shouldn't have any problems. Just remember, we've got Cuba way over there on our left, a bunch of smaller islands on our right, and the biggest of the Bahamas between us and Miami. Don't hit any of them and we're good to go,” Harry told Draco, still grinning.

“You make me hesitant to try this after all,” Draco muttered with a light glare.

“Nah, you'll be fine,” Harry assured him.

Deciding that there wasn't anything in the immediate vicinity to crash into, Draco took the wheel and turned it side to side experimentally. The boat rocked and wobbled, but didn't capsized or anything drastic like that. Filled with a tiny bit of confidence, Draco turned the wheel enough that they'd stay well away from the boat in the distance.

“Brilliant! Also, just so you know, one of the wards I cast will keep our sound from carrying, so we can talk normally even if a pirate ship was on our arse trying to find us,” Harry informed him.

Draco cleared his throat. “You know, I don't think you Disillusioned the boat so much as you Disillusioned the wards.”

“What's the difference?” Harry wondered.

“Well, the boat is a big solid object that had you Disillusioned it directly, would have taken a lot of magic, and even then, would have only camouflaged it so anyone with a good eye could still see it. A ward – even a big one – is a relatively small object, and so takes less magic to Disillusion. Think of it like a bed and a blanket. You could use your magic on the bed, or you could use it on the blanket and cover the bed with it. Which one is going to use less magic?”

“Alright, I think I see what you're saying, but still, why does it matter if the result is the same?” Harry wondered.

“Why waste your magic when you don't have to. It's thinking smarter, not harder, Potter.” Draco tapped his right temple to illustrate his point.

“Alright,” Harry agreed with a shrug. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there anything at all that *you'd* like to see in one of my stories? This is a good one to challenge myself to write different things and try different tropes. The problem I'm having is that now that I've gotten *to* the Drarry, I sort of have an urge to focus on it rather than the story, and I promised myself with this fic that I'd try to stay focused on the story, lol. So, I keep waffling on it. I'm not stuck exactly, I just think I'm in the perfect place to incorporate some crack or other fan suggested silly plot devices and whatnot, lol ^_^


	8. In Which Harry and Draco Stop Off in Nassau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Harry and Draco make their way back to Miami in the recovered boat, they make a few stops and have a bit of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that I said there will be mentions of Harry and Draco with others and try not to hate me for it, lol :-)

 

For the next hour or so, Draco really did learn how to drive the boat by playing with all the buttons and dials and everything else he could investigate. They purposely swerved toward a few of the islands just to get a look at them, and at one point, Harry insisted that they weigh the anchor.

“Dolphins and turtles!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“What are you _doing_ , Potter?” Draco sneered as if Harry was being a moron again. But Harry ignored him as he stripped off and grabbed one of the surf boards strapped to the railing of the deck. Tossing the board onto the ocean, he dove after it. “Potter?!” Draco cried out in alarm.

When Harry returned to the surface after his dive, he climbed onto the board and beckoned to Draco. “Come on! What's the point of taking jobs like these if you don't have a little fun?”

“But you're naked! And there are wild animals _right there_!!!” Draco protested.

“I'll admit that dolphins can be mean little bastards if they want to be, but they're like Hippogriffs, if you treat them with respect, they're more likely to tolerate you.”

“You're very clearly insane, Potter,” Draco informed him with a posh drawl.

“Suit yourself, Malfoy,” Harry gave in with a shrug. “And you don't _have_ to get naked. You could always swim in your pants.”

“But then my pants would be wet,” Draco protested snobbily. “And drying charms leave the silk feeling stiff and itchy.”

“I'm out of the wards now, so even though you can see and hear me, I can't see or hear you,” Harry warned him.

Sighing in defeat, Draco decided that laying on a floating board in order to get a better look at the – admittedly beautiful – dolphins and turtles seemed... safeish... And maybe even a little fun. Enough to give it a try. Muttering about mad fools and reckless idiots, Draco stripped off and grabbed a surf board, which he had to spell free because he didn't want to take the time to figure out how to release the damn thing. He tossed it into the water and watched as it righted itself and floated on the surface. Encouraged, he cast a Wingardium Leviosa on himself and floated over the railing and down to it.

“Glad to see you've joined me,” Harry said with a grin when Draco emerged from the wards. “Just take a really good look around and remember where the boat is, because if we get too far away from it, we might never find it again.”

Draco chuckled nervously, worried about memorizing the scenery. Then he realized that he could see the anchor emerge from the bottom of the wards. It was actually visible in the surprisingly clear water for quite some distance, and so, since he knew to look for it, he  _should_ be able to find the boat again.

Slightly less worried, he paid attention to the extremely spotty dolphin that swam over to get a curious look at him. Adira made interesting sounds as she flew circles above them. She sounded half delighted and half worried. Draco suddenly had to wonder if she could swim and if she'd be considered food.

“I have no idea how I let you talk me into this,” he grumbled at Harry. “And please stay high enough up that they can't eat you, Adira.”

Adira blew out a long plume of fire as if agreeing with Draco.

Harry showed a nearly childlike delight, actually petting the dolphins and turtles as they swam around him. One large gray and white spotted dolphin abruptly flipped him off his board, and then swam under him so that he had no choice but to grab onto the dorsal fin and hold tight as the dolphin took him for a swim. When the dolphin broke the surface to let Harry breathe, he whooped with joy.

The dolphin that was studying Draco poked his or her head out of the water and stared him in the eye.

“I'm _not_ swimming with you,” Draco insisted flatly.

The dolphin simply  _stared_ at him until he sighed in defeat.

“ _Fine!_ ” He prudently cast a precautionary Bubblehead charm on himself, then decided to start by petting the dolphin's nose, which almost looked freckled with how many spots there were. Her – and Draco decided that this one must be female because she was smaller than the one that was taking Harry for a ride. Anyway, her entire gray body looked like it had been spattered with white paint.

She chittered and clicked, nodding her head encouragingly. Very carefully, Draco shifted off the board and into the water with her. He stroked more of her head and thought she was actually rather nice. When she moved so that her dorsal fin was under his hand, he tentatively held onto it and let her swim him underwater and around in circles. They swam for about fifteen minutes, not going far from the boat, before she decided it was time to surface for some air.

At this point, Harry was back on his board, seemingly petting a large leathery turtle. He watched as Draco let go and tried to swim back to his board – which Harry had charmed not to float too far away from the boat. The moment Draco got more than a few feet from the dolphin, she flipped onto her back and swam under him, sort of grabbing him with one of her fins as she flipped him back under the water.

Draco cast a spell to help him get clear of her and swim to the surface. His Bubblehead charm was still working, so he didn't need to worry about breathing, but still, this was a large animal and she seemed to think he was part of her pod now. When he broke the surface, she flipped onto her back and swam under him again.

Laughter prompted Draco to cast a light glare over at Harry.

“Apparently ladies of _all_ species love you,” Harry snickered.

“What are you trying to say?” Draco asked unappreciatively.

“Just that she's trying to get you to mate with her,” Harry pointed out with a far too gleeful grin.

“ _What?!_ She is not!” Draco roared in outrage even as the dolphin rubbed her belly along Draco and made a lot of noises that sounded insistent. He was suddenly suspicious that Harry might be right and tried to swim away from her, but she kept pace with him no matter which way he turned.

With no way to outmaneuver a literal expert swimmer, Draco decided to simply Apparate onto his board. “Not. One. Word. Potter,” he growled in warning, embarrassed.

“Nah, I think it's sweet. She likes you,” Harry replied with a shrug. “And admit it, you were having fun swimming with her until she started trying to –” 

“Stop there,” Draco insisted, holding up his hand to emphasize the order. “Yes, I was having fun, and _no_ , there was nothing untoward happening. She just got confused. Or something.”

Laughing, Harry pointed toward the invisible boat. “We should probably get back on the boat and dry off before we get burned.”

“Bugger!” Draco swore at himself for forgetting the sun protection charms. He honestly had never been in such strong sunshine in his life, and hadn't been thinking about that. He quickly cast a few light healing charms to prevent burns on his delicate skin, then returned his wand to his arm holster.

Laying on their boards, they both swam back to the boat. Seeing that the dolphins and turtles were swimming away, Adira landed on Draco's back and licked the water droplets off his shoulder blade with her soft and snake like tongue. Draco couldn't help but laugh.

“That tickles!”

Harry snickered. “See?  _All_ the ladies love you.”

“Oi, shut it Potter! Stop perverting everything!” Draco commanded.

Still laughing, Harry disappeared inside the wards. Draco followed him a few seconds later. A quick Leviosa on the board had Draco on the boat before Harry finished climbing the ladder. Impressed – and a bit disgruntled that he hadn't thought of that – Harry summoned his board.

“Now might be a good time to eat my leftovers,” Draco murmured. Then he frowned in thought at Adira. “Hmm... Accio minnows!” It took a moment, but a handful of minnows came shooting out of the ocean, which he directed to the deck by his feet.

Adira shifted on his shoulder so that she could glide down to investigate the new smell. Deciding to be adventurous, she snapped up one of the desperately flopping creatures and chewed on it experimentally. Deciding that it was delicious, she made short work of the rest.

As they ate, Harry gave Draco a long and considering look. “You know, if you insist on working with me until I consider your debt paid in full, we might be together a long time.”

“Unless you consider each job installments on a loan. Once I reach – say... 12? Jobs, you consider my debt paid,” Draco countered.

Harry made a fair impression of the trademark Malfoy smirk. “You think your life is worth so little then? I honestly thought it'd take more like a hundred or so jobs.”

Draco glared at him, honestly not sure how to respond to that. He couldn't exactly call himself cheap or worthless, but he wanted to argue that he wasn't worth quite  _that_ much. On the other hand, he actually did consider himself to be worth a lot. Damnit! His prolonged silence had already won Harry the argument! With a sigh, he changed the subject.

“So how long until we get back to Miami?”

Harry shrugged. “Who knows.” He consulted a gauge before grabbing his wand and searching the boat for the gas tank. Once he found it, he cast a duplication spell into the tank. “There! That should prevent us from needing to stop for petrol.” He walked back over to Draco and sat down in one of the “captain's” chairs – Draco was already in the other, steering the boat again since he thought it was fun. “Anyway, what I was going to say is that if we keep working together, I should probably teach you how to drive a muggle car at some point.”

“Why would I need to know that?” Draco wondered, mildly baffled.

“Mostly for fun,” Harry replied. “I mean sure, we can Apparate and get just about anywhere we want to go via floo or broom, but it can be surprisingly enjoyable to just get in a car and drive around. Also, I've got a motor bike that used to belong to my godfather, which Hagrid and Arthur kept in good condition for me. That can be fun to ride in a whole other way.”

“Alright, I suppose that it _could_ come in handy on a future job,” Draco admitted. 

“That's the spirit!” Harry lightly heckled.

They continued on until the sun was much lower in the sky and they were threading the boat through the spacious straight between Nassau and the much bigger Bahama Islands off to the left. With a yawn, Harry stretched his arms over his head.

“So, we've been traveling at about 37 knots an hour, and we've been out here nearly 5 hours now. I _told_ you that most of my jobs are boring,” Harry informed Draco, actually sticking out his tongue.

Draco rolled his eyes because while the long stretch had been sort of boring, he and Harry had made a lot of idle chitchat, and that had been interesting. Plus, you know, nearly mating with a dolphin had been a memorable experience.  _Not_ that anything inappropriate had been going on!

“Anyway, I didn't memorize the map, but I caught the major landmarks,” Harry continued. “I'm pretty sure that Nassau was almost exactly between that little island we started on and Miami, so we have another four or five hours of travel. I think we should actually stop for the night, anchor the boat where it shouldn't be in anything's way, and put a proximity ward around the boat so that we can fly to that port and get something to eat. We can also claim that we traveled through the night and it will make more sense, time wise, to the muggles.”

“Alright,” Draco agreed with a shrug. He liked that Harry was consulting him, but since this was Harry's business, he was technically the boss and Draco was... an employee? _Merlin and Salazar!_ That sounded demeaning!

Harry pulled out his broom and cloak, but then Draco held up a hand to stop him. “The cloak is actually annoying when on the broom. Let me Disillusion your Firebolt and us so that we don't have to deal with it. And while I do, you should pick a spot to Apparate back to so that we don't have to try to find an invisible boat in the dark.”

“Good point!” Harry exclaimed, flicking his wrist to point at Draco. He looked around. The yacht – while smaller than some they had passed that day – was big enough to be considered a luxury cabin – or decent sized flat – on the water. It had two bedrooms and all the amenities, but wasn't so big that it had a lot of deck space. Harry pointed to the aft, near the steering wheel. “I pick there.”

“Then I'd better pick the front of the boat so that if I miss my mark, I don't collide into you,” Draco reasoned.

Harry nodded in agreement, and then reached out his hand to get a feel for his invisible broom. Once he mounted it, Draco Disillusioned him, then got onto the broom before Disillusioning himself.

They had anchored the boat off the southern coast of what turned out to be called New Providence Island. It had one main city – Nassau – and a few smaller settlements on its approximately 20 mile by 6 and a half mile, vaguely boat shaped landmass. They learned all of this by talking to locals, but before that, they ended up having to fly to the north side of the island because apparently  _all_ of the restaurants were along the north coast.

Harry flew more or less straight north from where he anchored the boat until he found a place to eat.

“The Pink Octopus? You must be _joking_ ,” Draco sneered.

“What's wrong? They're bound to have seafood,” Harry reasoned.

To be honest, Draco would prefer a good steak, but he capitulated with a sigh. “ _Fine...”_

Chuckling, Harry soon learned that it was a good choice because the vast majority of the tourists stuck to downtown Nassau, and so this place had a much smaller wait time. Plus, the menu was diverse. Harry was delighted to try sheep tongue tacos and – of course – octopus. Not to mention several other things as the food was served in small portions so that diners could order a variety of things to try and share. Meanwhile, Draco chose beef short ribs and shrimp, along with a few vegetable side dishes. He  _also_ ordered a bottle of wine – which he insisted that Harry drink with him like a person of refined culture.

Their waitress was friendly and flirted with them a little, but she was professional, serving them quickly. At one point, she came over to their table carrying a drink and wearing a mysterious smirk that showed off her vibrantly white teeth, which contrasted beautifully with her dark face. Tossing her long braid of black hair over her shoulder, she pointed to a woman by the bar with the hand that wasn't holding the drink.

“The lady over there says that any man who looks as fine as you do simply _must_ try this cocktail called 'Mr. White,'” she said as she set the drink down in front of Draco. Draco looked over at the woman, who grinned at him invitingly.

“ _All_ the ladies...” Harry muttered to himself with a soft laugh.

Draco cautiously took a sip of the cocktail and found it to be delicious. “Alright, this place is much better than I expected it to be.”

Encouraged, the lady herself came over to sit at one of the two empty chairs of the four person table he and Harry were sharing. “I hope you don't think me too forward, but I saw how very white you are and couldn't help but be fascinated.”

Draco grinned at her. His skin had developed a slight golden hue today – his healing charms preventing him from burning as he'd hoped – but his hair seemed whiter than ever. Considering that she had very dark black skin, black eyes, and black hair – which was short and curly – they were almost as opposite in looks as two people could get.

“Thank you, I think you look fascinating as well,” he told her honestly.

Her friend returned from the restroom just then to discover her missing from the bar. “Whoa!” She exclaimed in amazement when she noticed her friend sitting with Harry and Draco. She stood behind her friend and smiled at Draco. “You're  _very_ white.”

Draco raised a brow, wondering if and how he was supposed to respond to that.  _Duh_ seemed just plain rude.

The friend turned to Harry. “But you're more my type. You don't look as fussy as he does.” She ruffled Harry's messy hair.

Harry chuckled, smiling at her. “That much is certainly true.”

“Oi,” Draco protested but then dropped it because he couldn't actually argue the point.

“Hungry?” Harry asked, gesturing an invitation.

“Not really, we came here to drink tonight,” the woman more interested in him replied as she sat in the remaining chair.

Between the four of them, they consumed enough alcohol to practically kill a whale. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but they certainly got well and truly pissed. Harry and Draco split the bill when it came, and then walked with the women as they wobbled and swayed their way home.

In the morning, Harry woke up with a nasty hangover. He rolled off the cute girl and sat up. Hazy memories suggested that he'd had a very good time with her, but at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to find his clothes and get dressed so that he could find a private place to summon a hangover potion from the pouch around his neck. It looked like a tiny thing that could barely hold a ring, but it had been expanded quite a bit on the inside so that it fit just about everything he could ever want to carry. It would look weird to pull a bottle bigger than the pouch out of it.

A groan from another room suggested that Draco was awake now too. Harry made doubly sure that his lover was still asleep – and that no one else was looking through the window or something – before waving his hand in circles to summon all his clothes. And what the hell, since no one was watching, he took that potion after all.

A few minutes later, he was more or less dressed, shoving his suit jacket, waistcoat, and pants in his pouch so that he didn't have to waste time on them at the moment. His trousers and shirt were wrinkled and in need of a cleaning charm or two, but since he was covered, he didn't particularly care.

Draco emerged from a different room – Harry appeared to be in a living room on a fold out sofa – already fully dressed. Harry rolled his eyes and silently grumbled:  _dressing spells._ Without a word, he held out a hangover potion, which Draco downed with a grateful sigh. Checking to make sure he had his expensive watch – which was actually his carryall case – like Harry's pouch – he jerked his head in the general direction of the boat. With a nod of agreement, Harry Disapparated.

Back on the boat, Harry groaned. “I should've insisted we get breakfast before we returned!”

Draco heard that as he had popped up in his designated place only a second after Harry. “Maybe there's something to eat on the boat.”

“Good point!” They hadn't actually had a reason to look in the fridge yet as a cooler on the deck had been stocked with plenty of drinks. Harry jogged to the kitchen area – called a galley on most boats – and found that it actually _did_ have some food. Probably intended for the thieves since it all looked like sandwiches and snack food. He grabbed two and brought one back to Draco, who was busy getting the boat ready to go.

Draco glared at Harry as he accepted the sandwich. “You must be a  _horrible_ influence on me, Potter.”

“Why's that?” Harry asked with a curious frown.

“I wasn't such a slag before I started hanging about with you,” Draco growled softly. Adira snuggled into his shoulder and made her strange crackling fire sound in an attempt to sooth him.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Look, I don't sleep around that much either. I mean I have, but generally I'd prefer to be in a relationship where I don't have to check myself for nasty surprises because I was too drunk to think about the responsible stuff.” He paused to cast a couple of diagnostic spells on himself, coming up clean. “And I can only pray that I remembered to use a condom or something because I wasn't awake enough to remember to cast morning after spells on her either!” With a mildly frustrated roar, he paced the deck, tempted to go back and do that now. Only the fact that he couldn't clearly visualize an Apparation point stopped him from trying.

“Actually, Potter, try not to agonize about that so much,” Draco murmured in sympathy. “I actually _do_ remember casting all the responsible spells last night while you distracted them both for a moment – before I went into the bedroom with mine.”

Harry sighed in relief. “Good. Er... So... How was it?”

Draco laughed. “How do you think?!”

“Well mine was fun, but I don't remember everything,” Harry stated with a shrug.

“Mine was fun too. Worth the shame of not being able to look myself in the mirror for the rest of the day,” Draco admitted.

Harry tilted his head in confusion. “Why not?”

“I thought I told you, I'd never had a stranger before the other day, and I'm not really the type to play around. I was taught to be, erm, _choosy_ , erm... well... not exactly save myself for marriage, but not be a slag either. I'm not explaining this very well,” Draco trailed off in a grumble.

“No, I understand,” Harry assured him. “But it's not like you did anything terrible. You can still look yourself in the mirror and not be ashamed.”

Draco blew out a morose sigh. “The real problem is that in the moment, when a woman is interested in me, at least one part of me is interested in her in return and he's not particularly choosy.”

Harry chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Same here. Maybe that's for the best though. You know, get it all out of our system when we're young so that when we're older and ready to settle down, we don't have to worry about being tempted to cheat on our wives.”

Draco shrugged. “Since pureblood marriages are usually arranged – or at least encouraged among _suitable_ partners – having lovers on the side is almost expected at some point. I suppose that I never really thought about sleeping around a lot because I sort of expected to get married soon and just not need to.”

“So that's your plan?” Harry asked, and by this point, their well-warded and still invisible boat was back on course to Miami with the autopilot on.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Draco confirmed with a tilted nod.

“Mine's to fall in love at some point and get married and have a big family,” Harry confessed. “If I'm honest, I really wanted to marry Ginny right out of Hogwarts and start on a family right away, but when she graduated a few months ago, she got offered a position with the Holyhead Harpies. She's not ready for marriage yet, and so I told her I'd wait until she is.”

“You don't sound so sure anymore,” Draco pointed out.

“Well, the longer I'm apart from her, the more my feelings... change...” Harry tried to explain with a helpless shrug. “I'm not so sure I love _her_ , or just the idea of having a family with her.”

“Well, it sounds like you have plenty of time to figure that out,” Draco murmured, summoning a bottle of water out of the cooler to wash down his rather dry turkey sandwich.

“True,” Harry agreed. The rest of the trip passed surprisingly peacefully.

As they approached the pier where the boat belonged, they looked around very carefully and chose what they hoped was the best moment to end all the wards protecting them. If anyone spotted a boat suddenly appear out of nowhere, they didn't make any sort of fuss about it.

By this point, Harry had magicked all the money and drugs back into the safe and closed it. It had been drilled open by the thieves, so he repaired that, making it look like it had been untouched. If things went the way he hoped they would, there'd be no reason to suspect they knew what was in the safe.

They pulled up to the dock number written down in the file and found Mr. Weston's men watching them in shock. They called their employer, who made the quick drive from his house in less than ten minutes. He emerged from his car, also looking shocked.

“You brought it back?!”

“Yeah...” Harry confirmed, confused as to why this was such a surprise.

“When it went missing yesterday, I assumed that it had been destroyed!” Mr. Weston exclaimed.

“Went missing?” Harry questioned, feeling stupid for some reason.

“Yes, I had a tracking device on it – as I told you – and shortly after you left – about an hour or so – it just disappeared! Poof!”

“Oh, er... maybe the equipment is faulty, since we recovered it on route to Haiti and brought it straight back here,” Harry explained.

“And the safe is intact?”

Since his men had already checked this, he was actually asking them. “Yes sir.”

“Surprising,” Mr. Weston murmured, asking Harry and Draco to wait as he went and checked for himself. When he returned, he looked highly pleased. “Excellent! Your payment, as promised!”

Two of his men each held out an envelope of cash. Harry accepted his and pocketed it. Draco did a quick count of his money and frowned.

“You promised a bonus. If we returned the boat and the safe was unopened,” he reminded Mr. Weston. 

“So I did. I didn't expect this, so I forgot to prepare. One moment.” He went below deck and returned with a couple stacks of cash. “Here.”

Smiling, Draco accepted his bonus – which looked to be an additional half of the original payment. “Thank you. Glad we could help. We'll just be on our way now.” His nerves were still telling him something wasn't quite right.

Not meeting any resistance, Harry and Draco walked away. They noticed immediately that they were being followed. The men likely had orders to eliminate them when they least expected it –  _and_ when there were no witnesses from the pier. Not caring if he broke the damn statute, Harry pulled his cloak out of his pouch and swirled it around them so that they had the privacy to Apparate to the restaurant they'd eaten at yesterday before leaving. From there, Harry pulled out his broom and flew them into Miami until they were lost in the crowd of the city.

Sighing in relief, they decided to call Hannah (from a pay phone) and ask her to book them a hotel room so they could get a little rest before doing a little sightseeing. After all, they were in a gorgeous city and had a lot of money.  _Why not_ have a little fun before going home?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter so far and it's because the bit with the dolphin had me cracking up for days. It's actually true though that A: Dolphins in the Bahamas have been sort of acclimated to humans because of swim with the dolphins tours. Thus this pod could very well have been expecting Harry and Draco to try to swim with them, and B: Dolphins actually are one of the species that doesn't mind mating with other species. It's usually male dolphins and rogue females that actively try to mate with humans, but I figured that Draco is just so gorgeous that even the dolphins think so, lol ^_^  
> Not that anything iffy was going on, lol!


	9. The Case of the Stolen Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco are hired by Robert Ward to prove a man's innocence.

 

“In other news, the coast guard searched a boat that had been stolen and recovered to find a large amount of drugs and cash. The owner says he has no idea how they got there and that the thieves must have stolen his boat in order to smuggle the drugs without a trail leading back to them. This story so far seems all too familiar to us here at Local 10 News, but here's where it gets strange: The men who had stolen the boat turned up mysteriously on a tiny island in the Bahamas called Man of War Cay – not to be confused with a larger settlement on an island some 50-100 miles north of the tiny island with the same name. The thieves say they have no idea how they were caught as one moment, they were minding their own business, and the next, they were waking up in a tied up bundle on a beach. One local man attributes it to flying aliens. Tell us what you think: did aliens incarcerate a half dozen thieves and drop them on a tiny island in the Bahamas? Or do you think there's another explanation for what happened?”

Harry snorted in amusement and turned the telly off. “I think we should go to the beach and swim for a bit. Maybe learn to surf.”

“I think I should find at least one good shop to buy quality souvenirs in, or else Pansy'll murder me in cold blood,” Draco countered, looking through a guide book provided by the hotel they were staying in – which was called the [W South Beach](http://www.wsouthbeach.com/). “And there's something called golf I'd like to try.”

“Isn't that the game where muggles just hit little balls with long sticks?” Harry asked, baffled as to why anyone would find that interesting.

“Don't be stupid, Potter, the _point_ of the game is to use precision and strategy, _obviously_. Any moron could play if it was just hitting balls with sticks.”

Harry snickered. “I'm pretty sure most blokes do that on a daily basis.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but a soft laugh escaped him anyway.

“This pamphlet says that something called Spring Break starts tomorrow and the entire city is going to turn into something like a month long party,” Harry pointed out. “We could always do a pub crawl tonight.”

Draco snorted in amusement. “Then we'd get drunk and end up pulling again.”

“What's wrong with that?” Harry wondered.

Draco thought this over for a moment. “Nothing, I suppose. I just... I think maybe we shouldn't do that quite so often. This would be three times in twice as many days.”

Harry grinned and shook his head. “I didn't think someone who looked like you do would be quite so old fashioned.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Draco demanded with a glare.

Harry shrugged. “Just that you're so good looking that ladies from _other species_ want you. Personally, I think maybe I'd try it for a while. Pulling strangers that is, _not_ other species.”

Draco gave him a look that clearly wondered what sort of idiot he was. “Not only are you decently good looking yourself, but you're the bloody savior! You could probably talk your way into bed with every witch and wizard in the world!”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, but see, the problem with that is that they just want to shag me because then they can brag that they were with someone famous. They could sneak pictures and sell the story to gossip rags. I'd rather be some nameless face in a crowd that catches an eye. I mean, even if a girl came up and sat on my lap to snog the hell out of me like happened to you, I'd have to wonder where the cameras were.”

“Yeah, I suppose that would be frustrating,” Draco admitted. “Well, if you want someone to be attracted to your looks, you should probably put some effort into taming your rat's nest.”

“Ha!” Harry harrumphed. “My hair never obeys _anyone_.”

“Nonsense! It just takes the right charms or potions,” Draco insisted.

“If you think you know so much, then I dare you to give it a try,” Harry challenged.

“Just you watch,” Draco warned him. Standing up, he scrutinized the black hair that was still damp from a morning shower. He ran his fingers through it to find that it was coarse and wiry – which explained why it never lay flat. He tried casting spells to straighten the crinkles, which worked until the hair seemed to throw off the spell and fluff up again. Feeling challenged in the best possible way, Draco bit his lip and decided to try working _with_ the hair. If it wanted to stick up, then the best bet was to cut the hair so what remained looked artistic and wild on purpose.

About a half an hour later, Draco gestured for Harry to look in the mirror. Curious, Harry stood up and walked into the en suite bathroom. Unlike the Governor's Suite, this suite had one bedroom, a den-like room with a sofa/pull out bed (which Harry took), a living room, a kitchen, a small loo, and a single full bathroom for the room. Once in front of the mirror, he turned his head side to side to get a good look.

“Good job, Malfoy. Apparently you'd have a brilliant career as a hairstylist – if you ever needed to work. Of course, there's a small problem with this,” Harry said with a knowing smirk.

Draco practically Apparated into the bathroom next to Harry in his haste to see what went wrong. He inspected the newly cut hair critically. “What? What's wrong with my handiwork?”

“It'll all grow back by tomorrow or the next day,” Harry informed him, still smirking.

“Oh... well, even that's not so bad. It just means that it'll take a bit more work to maintain a good style,” Draco stated with a shrug. He walked away, slipping into the bedroom for a moment in order to change out of his bathrobe and into something comfortable. “No matter what, we're going to have to go shopping. I have almost nothing suitable to wear in this climate – especially if we're going to be out among muggles. And if spending all day yesterday on a boat in a suit taught me anything, it's that I'd like to not die from heat stroke. Oi, Potter, did you take the money we got from MACUSA out of my pocket for any reason?”

“No, why would I do that?” Harry wondered with a frown. “But now that you mention it, I thought I'd given you the little I had left after paying that enormous bill at the Pink Octopus.”

“Why would you give it to me?” Draco asked with a frown.

“To avoid spending it when I was drunk,” Harry reasoned with a shrug.

“We each got 800 American dollars,” Draco murmured, frowning in thought. “And approximately 400 of that was my half of the bill for all those drinks we had.”

“The bottle of wine you ordered was like 200 dollars all on its own!” Harry exclaimed in leftover sticker shock.

“Of course it was,” Draco stated dismissively. “It was fairly good quality. And each of the cocktails we ordered for us and our, erm... dates... were about 20 dollars – so it all added up. Maybe it came to more than I thought it did, but still...”

“What?” Harry asked curiously.

“Shouldn't I have _some_ money left?” Draco asked with a puzzled frown as he searched his suit pockets again.

“Like I said, I didn't have any in my pockets either, so I assumed I gave it to you to hold onto. Then I just didn't really have a need to ask about it yet since we each got – what? 7500? From Mr. Weston,” Harry said as he also changed into a pair of ratty Levi's and an oversized tee shirt. He was still in the bathroom, so this meant that they were mildly shouting at each other to be heard.

Now dressed in a pair of dark blue bespoke trousers and a lighter blue polo shirt with stylish dark blue contrasts that matched his trousers, Draco emerged from the bedroom. “You realize, Potter, that this means we were robbed.”

“But I'm pretty sure I made mine pass out, and she was still out when I woke up, so _when_ did she have time to rob me?” Harry wondered as he came out of the bathroom.

“Good question,” Draco murmured speculatively. “Perhaps they had a friend do it?”

“Well that's creepy!” Harry blurted out with a light shudder. He walked out onto the balcony of their [Oasis Suite](https://my.matterport.com/show/?m=1YPw6WDbkJ5) to look out over part of the city, and more importantly, the beach.

“From now on, we should make it a point to only have – say – 500 or so in our pockets, and the rest in our carryalls... Is yours charmed to appear empty if a muggle looks in it?” Draco asked, following Harry onto the balcony to sit at the outdoor table, prepared to cast the charm if necessary.

“Yeah, and actually, Hermione added a ward so that only people keyed into it can access anything in my pouch,” Harry replied.

“Handy,” Draco stated with a mildly impressed nod. He held up his wrist. “Mine's not noticeable as a carryall – even if you're a wizard. That said, if someone stole my watch, they wouldn't be able to get inside it without my magical signature, so it would be useless to them – aside from being valuable. And I'd just be able to summon it from them anyway.”

Harry sat at the table next to Draco – both gazing meditatively at the beach. He then summoned a pair of mugs from the kitchen before casting an Aguamenti into them and summoning his favorite tea from his pouch. Right there with him, Draco cast heating charms on the water before summoning his favorite tea out of his watch/carryall case. They leisurely drank their tea in a decently comfortable silence.

When they were done, they were ready to go, so they got up and left. On the way out of the hotel, Draco asked the woman at the concierge desk to give him directions to an upscale shopping center. She told him to stay on Collins Avenue and go about 10 blocks south to [The Webster](https://thewebster.us/stores/south-beach/), which was a luxury boutique he'd probably love. He didn't care what Harry wanted, he was _going_ to shop a bit before going home. Giving in with a long suffering sigh of defeat, Harry followed him.

At the Webster, they bickered because Harry was appalled at the prices of _everything_ and Draco insisted that the quality was worth it. Draco loaded up on anything that caught his eye because, well, if he were honest, he had nothing else to do with the American money he'd earned. Thus, he'd managed to buy his mother, father, and Pansy all gifts, plus buy a couple of nice outfits. He couldn't quite go hog wild because he had a budget he had to stick to, but still, he had fun.

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly let himself be talked into an outfit to wear that day while they explored South Beach and nearby Down Town Miami – or at least that was the plan. So far, they hadn't gotten off Collins Avenue yet. To Draco's surprise, Harry didn't argue about going to a very spendy place called [B](http://www.baolimiami.com/) [ â ](http://www.baolimiami.com/) [oli](http://www.baolimiami.com/) for lunch _and paying_ , even though Draco ordered an expensive bottle of champagne.

After they were done eating and pleasantly fuzzy – but not drunk – Harry sprung a trap for Draco. “There, now that I've shopped like you wanted and paid for lunch – as you insisted – it's _my_ turn to have a little fun.”

Draco hung his head with a sigh. “I should've known... Alright, Potter, what is it you want to do?”

“Surf!” Harry exclaimed gleefully.

Draco pursed his lips. “Is that the mad thing muggles do where they lay on those board thingies we used yesterday and sort of swim about?”

Harry grinned at him impishly. “Nope! It's that mad thing muggles do where they _stand up_ on those board thingies and try not to fall off as a big wave carries them back to shore.”

“That's bloody mental!” Draco blurted out in horror.

Harry seized him by the arm and dragged him to the nearest beach. A helpful woman in a very scanty bikini directed them to keep going south on the island-like part of Miami Beach until they were nearly at the tip. There, they'd find a school called [EZ Ride Surf School](http://www.ezridesurfschool.com/surf-lessons/couple-friends-surf-lessons.asp).

Absolutely giddy, Harry found a spot that was vaguely private and Disillusioned them both and his broom so that he could fly them to the place as quickly as possible. Adira made happy little chittering noises as they flew from where she'd been napping, invisibly curled up around Draco's neck. Once at the shop, Harry could _almost_ understand why Elliot bounced so much; he was tempted to do so as well in his excitement.

The school was having a slow day since Spring Break hadn't officially started, and so had no trouble getting them into wet suits for a two hour friends package lesson with an expert instructor. They had soft boards designed for beginners, and even Draco had to admit that it wasn't so bad once he'd learned all the safety information. Plus, he had his wand in his holster on his arm to cast a Bubblehead charm if he fell in too deep. Soon, they'd practically graduated to the intermediate lesson, but their instructor advised them to practice a bit more before overloading their brains with more information.

When the lesson officially ended, they were allowed to pay a little extra to rent the equipment until they were ready to come in. Which Draco insisted on after only a half an hour. He was getting tired and – shockingly – a bit hungry again. Plus, Adira had had her fill of minnows and was getting surly and in need of a nap. Still energetic, Harry caved in because _no one_ wanted to have to deal with a cranky Draco, especially since they'd been having fun and hadn't truly argued during their lesson.

Harry Apparated them back to their hotel suite after they'd changed back into their newly bought clothes. Which were casual yet stylish shorts and... Harry honestly had no idea what to call his shirt. It _looked_ like a normal tee shirt, but it was made from a posh, soft and silky material, cut to fit him closely without being tight, and looked... sexy... He felt a bit like a fashion model in these clothes.

As for Draco, in Harry's opinion, he _always_ looked like a fashion model, but he'd gone from looking like a posh rich boy to... So damn sexy that Harry had to shift uncomfortably and look away until he could stop remembering how that normally perfect short white blond hair had looked dripping wet from the ocean and blown about in the wind.

“Erm... tea?” Harry asked, his voice nearly squeaking.

“Of course,” Draco stated with a light sneer. He picked up the phone – which he had come to think of as an _ingenious_ method of communication. When the concierge answered, he smiled. “Your motto is whatever, whenever, right?”

“Exactly so, sir.”

“Brilliant! I'm in the Oasis Suite and I'd like a plate of paté and caviar with a variety of crackers. I'm sure I probably don't have to specify this, but I want it to be goose liver – and do you have golden sterlet caviar available?”

“I'll look into it, but if not, I'll make sure to get the best possible caviar available,” the woman assured him.

“Excellent!” Draco cheered before hanging up.

“Oi!” Harry protested, picking the phone up and ringing the concierge again. “Hi, the Oasis Suite again. I'd like to add a large ham sandwich to the order – made with real roasted pig on sourdough if possible – and a salad or something.”

“Sure thing! That'll be easier than the caviar, I think.”

“Thanks!” Harry said before he hung up again. He walked over to check out what was on the telly, but before he even turned it on, a house elf popped into their room.

Both Harry and Draco watched the elf curiously as it set up a two foot squared tray on the circular glass table between the living room and the kitchen. On the tray, the elf attached a rectangular frame that looked a bit like a small window, perfect for looking out of if one were in a bathroom or other place where they didn't want a _full_ window but still wanted something to look out. Lastly, the elf set a jar of powder next to the tray. After that, the elf bowed and left.

“Er...” Harry droned in confusion. A moment later, the tray and frame burst into green flames and a head appeared.

“Hi Harry!” Dwayne greeted with a friendly grin. “I'm glad you haven't gone home yet. Robert Ward has very insistently been asking for you.”

“Oh? Does that mean he's all better already?” Harry asked happily.

“Well, no. But he _is_ better enough that he can write coherently and do his work. He just can't speak coherently yet. He's getting there – able to call his brother by name and the like, but it'll still be some time before he's back to normal,” Dwayne explained.

“What's he want to see me for?” Harry wondered.

Both Dwayne and Draco snorted at that.

“He's devastated that he was saved by _the Harry Potter_ but didn't get a chance to thank you before you left,” Dwayne explained.

“ _Duh_ ,” Draco drawled sarcastically.

“Oh... erm... I'm not sure I want to go all the way back to New York just to be thanked,” Harry murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dwayne shrugged. “Alright, if that's what you really want, but I got the feeling that there was more to it than that. I can't say for sure as Mr. Ward didn't go into specifics, but with as intense and insistent as he was being, my gut tells me there's something else he wants to talk to you about.”

Harry took a deep breath as he thought this over. Very often, happy clients had new cases for him once they realized that he could do things others couldn't. It was surprising how many problems people had.

Well... maybe that wasn't so surprising after all.

“Alright,” Harry agreed with a nod. “I'll Apparate us to MagTech after we eat.”

“ARE YOU _INSANE_???” Draco demanded incredulously. “This isn't a difficult but still probably doable hop from London to Hogwarts, this is practically _three_ times that distance!”

“So... you don't think I could do it?” Harry questioned, sounding speculative. “I think I could, after all, the three Ds are Determination, Destination, and Deliberation – not Distance.”

Draco smacked his own forehead. “Go ahead and try, Potter. I'd like to see you fall out of it halfway there splinched to a tree or missing half your internal organs. Meanwhile, _I'll_ take a Portkey, thank you very much.”

Dwayne snorted in amusement. “Well, whether or not you actually can, we hoped you'd agree to come back, so we had a Portkey already made up for you. It'll be delivered in –”

The house elf popped into the room again and handed Harry a vase full of flowers. “Sir's Portkey will be leaving in five minutes.”

“Wait, er –” Harry protested but was cut off as the house elf left. “Wait, _why_ can house elves Apparate that far but you think I can't?”

“House elf magic is almost completely unknown,” Draco explained. “And I'm not sure, but I suspect they break it down into smaller trips. Otherwise, the fact that they are following their Masters' orders probably gives them a bit of a magical boost to make longer trips. But I _still_ wouldn't recommend calling for your elf, Potter.”

“Alright,” Harry muttered in understanding of the entire explanation. “But it looks like we're going to end up leaving before our food gets here.”

“I'll just call and cancel it,” Draco stated.

“Shouldn't we check out while you're at it? We won't exactly have a reason to come back here,” Harry pointed out.

“Leave the check out to Hannah – since she'll have to settle your bill anyway,” Dwayne told them.

A knock at the door prevented Draco from picking up the phone, detouring him to the door. To his delight, their food had arrived – golden sterlet caviar and all. He subtly hid a hand with his wand behind the door and summoned money from Harry's pocket – since he had blown through the majority of his when shopping. _Not_ that he'd admit that to Harry. When the money was in hand, he handed it to the delivery girl as her tip. Grinning flirtily, the girl looked him up and down, but before she could offer to come back after her shift was over to give him a private tour, he thanked her and closed the door. Sighing in disappointment, she walked away.

“I'd suggest packing these in some of those to go containers we collected,” Draco said as he levitated the tray over to the table. “And eat _after_ our Portkey yanks us across the country.”

“Good idea,” Harry murmured in agreement, his mouth already crammed full of sandwich. He did as suggested, and then ran to the loo very quickly. Draco used the other, since it was only prudent.

Soon enough, Dwayne – who had ended the firecall when they got the knock on the door – greeted them in person. He shook both their hands. “Sorry it's just me today, but Jan's interrogating Ms. Gutierrez again.”

“That's fine,” Draco assured him, happy to not have that somewhat irritating vulgar mouth around.

Chuckling, Dwayne held out his hands. “Let me Apparate us and save you the trouble.”

“Alright,” Harry capitulated, taking Dwayne's left hand while Draco took his right. He still carried the flowers because they could be given to Robert as a get well soon gift. Unlike the toy orca, that had been accidentally dropped onto Man of War Cay and probably picked up by a baffled child.

They arrived in the waiting area for Robert Ward's office. Robert was clearly in a meeting with his board of directors – probably trying to decide what to do about the newly vacated CFO position. Elliot was predictably fidgeting. He looked up and spotted them through the glass walls.

“HARRY!” Elliot greeted as if he hadn't seen his long lost best friend in _years_. He raced over to Harry and threw his arms around him to give him a tight hug.

Chuckling, Harry patted Elliot on the back. “Hi Elliot.”

Elliot let him go to bounce excitedly. “Rob's back! He's still talking weird, but he's back! Come! Come meet him!”

“Good to see you again, Mr. Potter,” the rest of the board greeted with adoring smiles.

Meanwhile, Robert stood up and held out his hand. In his other hand, he held up a sign that read: _I'm so happy to meet you. Thank you for saving me._

Harry gestured to Draco and Dwayne with his left hand as he shook Robert's hand with his right. “It was a joint effort.” He then grabbed the vase of flowers he'd levitated momentarily and handed it to Robert. “And I hope you get better soon.”

Robert erased the sign and wrote: _Still, I'm in your debt. If there's_ ever _anything I can do for you, just ask._

Harry waved his hands almost frantically. “Don't worry, I got paid by MACUSA _and_ the Ministry of Magic, so I'm good.”

_I'd still like to give you a reward. How would you like –_

Harry put his hand over the sign so that Rob couldn't finish writing. “Seriously, your brother gave us practically everything you make. We were _more_ than rewarded.”

Draco smacked Harry upside the back of the head. “You blithering idiot! Didn't we have a discussion the day before yesterday on the value of a life? You're in essence telling him that his life means nothing to you. _Of course_ he's going to keep pressing the issue. Just accept graciously and be done with it!”

“But Malfoy –” Harry's protest was cut short.

“No! It's not about you, Potter! It's about Ward's feelings and his life. Stop being a moron!” Draco insisted.

Harry sighed in mild aggravation and forced a smile for Robert's benefit. “Alright. Sorry. You're right. I'll be happy to accept whatever you think is appropriate.”

 _Good_. The sign read even as Robert smiled happily, glancing curiously at Draco.

“This is Draco Malfoy. He's working with me for now,” Harry introduced.

Draco growled softly. “I just realized that we're still in our beach wear. We should have changed back into our suits.”

“Stop being such a ponce, Malfoy,” Harry ordered. “We weren't given a chance to change, and besides, they're pretty casual here.” As evidenced by the fact that half the members of the board – of both sexes – were topless.

“That doesn't matter, it's the principle of the thing,” Draco insisted.

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered: “Pureblood snob.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing, you half-blood mutt!” Draco snarked.

Robert inadvertently interrupted them by writing on his sign that he was dismissing the meeting for now. Then he invited Harry, Draco, and Dwayne to the cafeteria to get refreshments. At this time of day, it was empty and probably the best place to have a semi private chat. Elliot bounced and sort of galloped as he followed them.

“Harry! If you have a moment, will you sign something for me this time?”

“Sure Elliot,” Harry agreed.

“I printed up a pretty good picture of us shaking hands from the security footage! I nearly _died_ when I saw that! I'm going to frame it and hang it on my wall!”

Harry chuckled. “Please not your bedroom wall.”

“Nah, my study, but still! Do you mind if I chat with you via the instant owl paper I gave you? If nothing else, it'll be a good test of distances and the like!”

“Why not, it might be interesting to hear what you're working on,” Harry murmured.

“Oh oh! Did I even mention –” He fell silent when he saw his brother hold up a hand.

 _Give him some space please._ With a gesture, Robert invited Harry and his companions to grab something to drink or eat now that they'd reached the cafeteria. Dwayne promptly made himself a salad big enough to feed three or four normal people – loaded with everything he liked – with a cherry coke to wash it down.

Harry and Draco already had something to eat, so they simply loaded up on their favorite tea. Robert waited for them to get comfortable and a few bites into their food before writing on his sign. He held it up a moment later.

_Can I hire you to help a friend?_

“Depends on what your friend needs,” Harry replied, feeling a bit smug that he was right.

Robert looked from Harry to Dwayne to Draco and then back to Harry. _Whether you take the job or not, can I have your word that you won't tell anyone else what I'm about to tell you?_

“Of course,” Harry assured him. “I wouldn't have much of a business if my clients didn't think they could trust me.”

Draco shrugged. “I probably won't care enough to _want_ to tell anyone.”

Robert laughed. _Fair enough_ . He turned to look at Dwayne. _And you're not supposed to interfere in no-maj crimes, right?_

Dwayne shook his head. “I mean, if I see a no-maj about to shoot someone, then yes, I can and should stop him, but other than that, I'm supposed keep my nose out of it and let the no-maj authorities handle it.”

_Alright. The janitor here –_

“Is he your lover after all?” Draco asked curiously.

_What??? Why do you ask that?_

Draco chuckled, as did both Harry and Dwayne. “It's just something Auror Jauncey said. Or was it actually Ms. Gutierrez?”

“Gutierrez,” Harry confirmed.

“But actually, Jan _did_ say it too after the case was closed and we were discussing it over drinks,” Dwayne added.

Draco gestured to indicate the massive man. “There you go. And as you said, if Auror Jauncey suspected it, it was probably true.”

Robert blushed and looked away. _Once, but that's not relevant to the job. As I was saying, Michael – the janitor – he came to me yesterday and..._ He took a moment to wipe off the sign and kick Elliot so that his brother would stop gaping at him incredulously. _His brother is a no-maj – Michael was born to a no-maj family, and his brother Kyle is in a bit of trouble._

“Wait! _When_ was this once???” Elliot demanded.

_Damn it! Does that really matter?!_

“YES!” Elliot insisted.

 _About a week or so ago now,_ Robert wrote on the board, not looking his brother in the eye.

“Ally was right!!!” Elliot blurted out in excitement. “She _said_ you must have had a quickie with him because you were both acting weird!”

 _Why does that matter???_ Robert demanded via his sign.

“I guess it doesn't, just that if we had _known_ that at the time, we probably would have suspected the janitor of being involved in your disappearance a lot more. We basically let him off for being sick, or something like that,” Elliot explained with a shrug.

Robert looked a strange cross between shocked and impressed. _And... that's it? You're not going to give me shit for screwing a dude?_

“Pfft!” Elliot exclaimed with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Screw whomever you like so long as you keep this company running and kicking ass as the best place ever to work at!”

Unexpectedly, Robert threw his arms around his brother and kissed him on the cheek.

“Dude, the way you're acting, you'd think – _wait_!!! Are you actually gay?! OH MY GOD! First of all, _how in the hell_ did you hide that from me so well?! And secondly, _why in the hell_ didn't you just say so sooner?!?! Did you think we'd care?!”

“Dude, take a breath,” Dwayne reminded him.

“Right!” Elliot stated, flicking his wrist to point at Dwayne.

 _I don't think I'm gay because I like the ladies way too much,_ Robert explained as he waved at Shelley, who returned his wave distractedly as she rushed to shove her favorite mug in the coffee pot and pounce on the jar of her favorite coffee. _But that said, I've been attracted to Michael for so long and it's been driving me crazy. When it happened, it was like the Gods nudged me on the arm and said: Hey man, that's the one._

“Whoa...” Elliot exhaled reverently. “That sounds serious...”

_Can I get back to the job now?_

“Sure,” Elliot permitted. Harry could tell that his coffee had kicked in because he was noticeably calmer than even a few minutes ago.

 _So, as I was saying, Michael's brother Kyle is a no-maj that lives in another state. He works at a five star hotel and a guest checked an expensive diamond necklace – valued at over two million dollars – into the hotel safe._ Robert paused to wipe the sign clean.

_When it was discovered missing and the police were called, they asked for a record of who had access to the safe between the time it was checked in and the time it was discovered missing. Kyle's the only employee who's number was definitely logged into their safe room security pad that *doesn't* have a rock solid alibi._

Robert paused this time to not only wipe the sign, but also summon a bottle of water to drink. _Kyle insists that he didn't do it, and maybe I'm being stupid, but I believe him. I'm willing to hire him a lawyer and provide him with a safe place to hide until he has a good defense in place._

He looked at Dwayne significantly.

“I understand. I'm not interested in reporting Kyle for any reason,” Dwayne assured him.

 _In the meantime, none of the no-maj police are looking into who else might have done it. They've decided that he's the only possible suspect, so he must be guilty. I want to hire_ _ you _ _to look into the matter and see if you can prove he didn't do it._

Harry stroked his chin in thought. This definitely fell under the definition of his business goal of helping people solve problems no one else could. “What happens if it turns out he _did_ do it?”

Robert looked sad, but nodded in understanding. _In that case, I'll turn him in and still provide him with a good lawyer. I don't want to subvert justice, I just want to make sure that it's being upheld._

Draco was looking at the ceiling in thought. “Hmm... you know, if you just show up and say that you're investigating the case, chances are that no one will cooperate. I mean, why would they?”

“You could claim to be a bounty hunter,” Elliot suggested. “There's bound to be a big one on Kyle at this point, and it wouldn't be unusual to search his place of employment for clues.”

“True, but even that has its limits,” Draco mused, looking at Elliot. “But if we do what we just did for the boat –”

Harry unthinkingly cut him off, sort of confused. “You mean show up and ask for the job?”

“Yeah, but more importantly, if you asked the owner of the necklace for the job of trying to find _it_ , you'll not only have a reason to investigate the case, but you'll also have a reason to snoop around and follow leads that the police won't or can't,” Draco theorized.

“And we can use the same excuse by claiming that a friend in a government position told us about the missing necklace and suggested that we'd be more motivated to find it – for a reward – than the police are to find the criminal who stole it,” Harry added.

 _The owner might feel like the police aren't quite doing their job right and agree just to feel in control of the situation again,_ Robert hypothesized, happy that it sounded like Harry was going to take the job.

“Since it's out of state, I won't be able to help you directly,” Dwayne informed Harry apologetically. “But if there's anything you need me to do – such as obtain official police reports – just let me know and I'll do what I can.”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured with a smile.

 _I can possibly be of even more help than that_ , Robert added with a soft smile. _I can open up an employee expense account in your name and deposit not only your reward in it, but also your payment for the job. That way, you'll have a debit card you can use to rent a car or whatever you might need – which is a lot easier than carrying cash._

“Oi, what about me?” Draco asked, perking up at the mention of money. “I'm getting paid for this job too, aren't I?”

_I was going to pay you in cash since I figured that one of you should probably have some cash on you for emergencies – such as you lose the card or it gets stolen._

“Ah, that makes sense,” Draco murmured in understanding.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “You'll just insist that we go shopping again and spend it all!”

Draco shook his head in return. “Not all of it, no, but I'd really like to visit Dwayne's tailor again and pick up two or three more suits for each of us so that we have a little variety. And honestly, we have very little that we can wear in muggle public –”

“I do too!” Harry protested.

“ _Not_ anything that's decent and professional!” Draco exclaimed in frustration.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was still fairly stylish from Draco's cutting of it. “Oh alright. We'll shop some more, but Jesus buggering Christ, Malfoy! Stop being so bloody concerned with how we look and start being more concerned with helping people!”

“I already told you, Potter, that I'm not a bleeding heart Gryffindor. I'm a Slytherin and I'm only in this for myself. You're lucky that I'm smarter than you because this small matter of having a decent wardrobe will save you from having to work harder at convincing your necklace owner that you're a serious businessman.”

“The suit I already have is perfect for that!” Harry reminded him.

“Except that you wore it for _hours_ while sailing a boat through the Bahamas, stopped in Nassau long enough to get blind drunk and shag a pretty local, and then sail some _more_ without even casting a cleaning charm in it's general direction!” Draco argued.

“Well I could always cast a cleaning charm on it now,” Harry pointed out.

“It'll still smell atrocious,” Draco stated with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You already agreed to go to the tailor, so stop arguing Potter and admit that I'm right.”

“Like I'm _ever_ going to admit to that, Malfoy! I'd have to go wash my mouth out with soap!” Harry roared incredulously.

Dwayne snickered. “You two remind me a little of me and Jan. She's mouthy like he is.” He jabbed his thumb at Draco. “And you're so low key that you get easily frustrated by how different he is from you.”

“I've never noticed you get frustrated,” Harry murmured with a puzzled frown.

“I've been working with Jan for years. We had to go through a pretty big rough patch before we sort of clicked. But since then, our partnership has been like magic, or smooth seas, or whatever your favorite cliché is,” Dwayne explained. “We're considered the best team in the department.” He looked at the ceiling in thought for a moment. “I guess I learned that the best way to deal with Jan is to just ignore all the filth that comes out of her mouth and listen for the pearls of wisdom. She's highly intuitive and can usually solve a case by the extremely unorthodox method of analyzing everyone's sex life. The same method almost certainly wouldn't work for you or me – or even Mr. Malfoy – but it's part of her charm. So long as I just let her do her thing and be herself, she can perform near miracles.”

Harry raised a suspicious brow. “Are you saying that I should let Malfoy be Malfoy and not call him out on his bullshite?”

“Oi!” Draco protested indignantly.

“More or less, yes. I think calling him out when needed would be fine – necessary even – just try not to dismiss him out of hand when it seems like he's being a prissy little girl,” Dwayne said with a smirk.

“ _Oi_!” Draco growled, standing up and summoning his light-saber out of his watch case. “I know you've one of these too, so pull it out and get ready to have your arse kicked!”

“You think you can take me, pretty boy?” Dwayne challenged as he got to his feet and rummaged around in his pocket.

Draco preened as Dwayne located his saber and held it at the ready. “Undoubtedly.”

Harry decided that this was one of those times when he just needed to let Malfoy be Malfoy. Not really interested in the battle – which was already becoming rather epic – he focused on Robert. The CEO _was_ interested in the battle, clearly making a visual analysis of Draco's very sword-like light-saber.

“So... where's this Hotel the necklace was stolen from?”

Robert used one eye to help him write the address on the sign while his other eye remained fixed on the battle. He even remembered to fish a paper out of his pocket that Kyle had written more details on – such as the name of the owner of the necklace. Harry took the paper and looked it over.

Elliot leaned over and nearly whispered in his brother's ear. “Harry's light-saber is massive and gold. Both of theirs sting pretty bad too, and I'm already planning out a quick trip around the world to see if I can test the sabers on a bunch of other witches and wizards.”

 _Do you think the stinging correlates to magic power_? Robert asked avidly.

“That's my theory so far – unless it's just different for people in other countries,” Elliot replied. The two brothers promptly got lost in a brainstorming session/debate on the possible explanations.

As for Harry, he borrowed Rob's mobile phone – which was a blue and gray rectangle with a number pad and not much else. It said Nokia on it, and had a little screen so one could see the number they were dialing and make sure that it was correct.

“Mr. Quahog's office, Hannah speaking.”

“Hi Hannah, it looks like I'm going to need another Portkey...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love imagining Draco and Wayne dueling with light sabers, lol. I'm going to say that they were pretty evenly matched and neither won because Harry yanked Draco away when he got impatient to leave.


	10. In Which Draco Plays Poker and Harry Chats Up the Night Manager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco have been hired to prove a man innocent, which means finding the stolen necklace and who actually stole it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: for anyone sensitive to language and references to incest and molestation (nothing on page, just references to it), there's a pair of characters in this chapter that very briefly shout vulgarities at each other rather disrespectfully.
> 
> Also, Harry and Draco have sort of embraced their youthful slagginess by this point. The good news is that we're getting just a bit closer to the Drarry part - which is in the next chapter or the one after that :-)

 

By the time they were done shopping for their new suits – at least Mr. Swinson made Harry two suits that looked good on him and felt really nice against the skin – they were caught up by Janice and semi forced to go to dinner with her. When they were finished with that and managed to convince her that they  _ needed _ to make their Portkey, it was 9pm and Harry was afraid that it would be too late at night to start the job.

That said, he noticed as they checked into the suite that Hannah had booked them that they had gained an hour and it was only 8pm here.  _ Maybe _ it wouldn't be considered too late to conduct a little business. They followed the directions the woman working the front desk gave them and looked around their suite in case they needed to Apparate to it for any reason.

Hannah had booked them the [Ambassador Suite](https://www.saintpaulhotel.com/guestrooms-and-suites/ambassador-suite) in the St. Paul Hotel in a city call St. Paul, Minnesota. Compared to the last two suites they'd been in, this one was almost drab. That said, Draco loved that it showed character and taste. Harry had to admit that it was vaguely reminiscent of the style he'd seen in Buckingham Palace when he'd met the Princes and was given a medal by the Queen for defeating Voldemort.

The suite had a king sized bed in the bedroom, which Draco naturally claimed. There was a living room area with a sofa, some plush arm chairs, a coffee table, a mini wet bar and telly, and a nice table to use as a desk or a table. An open door led to another – smaller – bedroom. The second bedroom had it's own en suite bathroom, and the suite itself had a nice bathroom with a granite counter. They each picked an Apparation point.

Just before leaving the room, Harry pulled out his notes on the case and verified which room the prospective client was staying in. It was called the [Ordway Suite](https://www.saintpaulhotel.com/guestrooms-and-suites/ordway-suite), and was the best suite in the hotel. They made their way to the suite, still wearing one of the new suits they'd just bought. Incidentally, Mr Swinson had cast a few handy dry cleaning spells on their previous suits so that they were fresh and ready to be used again.

After knocking on the door, it opened to reveal a suspicious looking man. He looked Harry and Draco up and down as if judging them. “Can I help you?”

“Brad Smith?” Harry inquired with a friendly smile.

This immediately made the man even more suspicious. “Yes...”

“Hello, my name is Harry Potter, and this is my partner Draco Malfoy. We heard from a friend in the government that you have a missing necklace that you'd quite like to find. Word is that it was stolen by an employee of this hotel, but that neither the employee nor the necklace have been found. My partner and I feel that the police aren't giving the case the proper attention and would like to offer our services.” As Harry explained this, he held up a small card the size of a license that was charmed to tell the muggle anything he needed to see in order to believe them. In this case, it just so happened to be a PI license.

Only a tiny bit less suspicious, Brad Smith invited them into his suite. “Yes, the police have been  _ appalling _ ! They should have caught the culprit and returned my necklace  _ days _ ago!”

“So you'd be willing to hire us then?” Draco pressed, interested to note that there were a handful of others around the long rectangular table in the parlor area of the suite. The table itself was a beautifully polished mahogany with elegantly matching chairs. Off to the side of the table was a full wet bar with a smaller – four person table next to it. The smaller table had two women sitting around it, drinking cocktails and watching the people at the bigger table in amusement.

“Well, I'll be willing to consider it,” Brad Smith replied before gesturing around the table. “This is my lovely wife Angie, our good friend Bill Morrissey – who owns this hotel –” 

He was going to continue the introductions, but Bill stood up and shook Harry's hand. “I'd swear I've heard the name Harry Potter before somewhere.”

“Did you go to a private school named Ilvermorny?” Harry asked, not exactly able to ask if he was a wizard in what was likely a room full of muggles.

“No, never heard of it,” Bill denied with a shake of his head.

One of the women at the smaller table spoke up. “I had a cousin go to Ilvermorny, dear, and I think the reason you may have heard of Mr. Potter is that my cousin – the same one who went to Ilvermorny – happened to mention him to me over tea one day. You were in deep discussion with someone about a business deal – I believe – so I'm surprised that you remember hearing the name.”

“Is he famous then?” Bill asked his wife.

“Oh, a little. I'd like to think he's a bit like, hmm, Sherlock Holmes – especially since he's apparently a private investigator now.”

“Oh...” Bill murmured, seeming a little disappointed. “Well, welcome to the St. Paul Hotel. We at Morrissey Hospitality are dedicated to making our hotels and restaurants the epitome of excellent customer service.”

“Anyway, we're having a game of poker,” Brad stated the obvious, since all the men and the sole woman at the table were holding cards and sitting around a nice sized pile of money. “You gentlemen care to join us?”

“Er...” Harry hesitated, never really having played the game before.

“I'd be delighted,” Draco accepted, sitting in the chair next to Angie Smith – as indicated. He not only  _ loved _ poker, but his family had inherited phenomenal luck at the game, nearly always winning the war even if not all of the battles. “Are there any house rules I should be aware of?”

They explained the rules to him as Mrs. Morrissey made drinks for both Harry and Draco. Harry sipped lightly on his while Draco took a good swig. Harry was standing a bit awkwardly behind Draco, watching as a new hand was dealt out.

“Erm... I'd actually prefer it if I could start on the case by taking a look around the hotel,” Harry said.

“Are you staying here?” Bill asked.

“In the Ambassador Suite,” Harry confirmed.

“Excellent!” Bill exclaimed with a grin. “I'll call down to let Georgia at the front desk know to help you as necessary.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied with a smile.

“Don't worry, Potter, I'll be fine up here by myself,” Draco assured him.

“Alright Malfoy, have fun,” Harry murmured, hoping that Draco was actually working in his own mysterious way on the case. Which was entirely possible since the client had changed from suspicious to happy once Draco accepted the invitation to play, and also, didn't protest them taking the case at that point. Harry left him to it, making his way to the front desk to talk with Georgia.

As it turned out, she didn't have much to tell him that he didn't already know. She showed him the room with the safe in it, how it had a security door that logged everyone who accessed it, and statements that they'd helped the police gather proving that the majority of their employees had tight alibis during the night that the necklace had gone missing.

Considering that there were really only five employees that were on duty that night that had access to and actually did go into the safe room, it wasn't surprising that most of them had alibis. Honestly, the fact that they were all working  _ was _ an alibi as the hotel had cameras in the lobby and hallways – but not in the actual safe room. That said, the alibis for  _ all _ of them were rather spotty in Harry's opinion, because they all vouched for each other. Even Kyle was vouched for, so Harry honestly wasn't sure why he was singled out – except for he was the only one who had admitted to going on an unauthorized break at one point, and was also the only one who refused to provide a non required urine analysis to rule out possible drinking or other substance abuse on the job.

The fact that he had immediately run away when he heard that he was the most likely suspect probably made the police decide that he was  _ definitely _ the thief. Harry sighed as he wondered how he was going to go about finding the necklace and proving Kyle's assumed innocence. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling as he thought.

At this point, Georgia hummed in sympathy and rubbed his back. They were still in the safe room, and since the theft, security had been tightened so that she was the only one working at the moment with access to the room – which was why Bill had called her specifically instead of the other employees working the front desk.

“You know, I knew Kyle pretty well, and I was  _ shocked _ to learn that he'd done it. Honestly, I have my doubts. He's a good guy, I just don't see him doing that. Besides, how exactly would he get away with it. He'd have to go on the run, which would require him to have enough money to  _ pay _ for that, and he had just spent everything he had in savings on a nice vacation to Las Vegas. I just don't see it.”

“Hmm...” Harry hummed in thought. “You have a point. He'd have to have funds  _ and _ he'd have to...” he trailed off, not wanting to assume, but fairly certain that the necklace would have to be sold by the thief in order to be of any use – otherwise why steal it? It would be different if it was just some stupid idiot stealing a bit of pretty for his girlfriend, but  _ this _ would be sheer lunacy as it would result in not only losing his nice job, but certain jail time once caught. There'd have to be a more motivating reason behind the theft.

Georgia ruffled Harry's hair out of his face, tracing his scar curiously. “God you're gorgeous!”

“Er... thanks...” Harry murmured, smiling at her. She was fairly pretty herself with soft brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a hint of plumpness that gave her some nice curves.

Encouraged, Georgia gave Harry a hesitant kiss that grew in confidence when he returned it. About fifteen to twenty minutes later, Harry pulled up his trousers and stumbled out of the safe room, more than ready to go back to his room and pass out. Smoothing out her above the knee length skirt with a happy purr, Georgia returned to her job.

 

***

 

In the morning, Harry was a bit surprised when he padded out into the living room area of the suite, to witness a woman he vaguely recognized from the Ordway Suite the night before slip out of the room Draco was staying in.

“Er... Good Morning.”

She whirled around to face him. “Great morning! Your partner is fantastic in bed!”

“Good to know,” Harry murmured, scratching his head and looking around for a mug to make tea in.

“Over there,” the woman intuitively pointed out. “Good luck on your case. My father was impressed with Draco and has agreed to pay you both handsomely if you manage to recover the necklace.”

“Er...” Harry droned, alarmed that Draco had apparently shagged the client's daughter.

She read his mind in this too and laughed. “Don't worry! I'm 25 and more than capable of consenting to whomever I like. My father actually thinks I'm a bit of a slut and is used to me sleeping with his business partners. If he's being honest, it usually works out in his favor as men are more likely to give him whatever he wants to make up for their guilt at messing with me – they  _ think _ behind his back.”

“Alright, Miss Smith,” Harry agreed since there wasn't really anything else to say.

“Jolie,” she corrected him. But then she shoved her shoes on her feet and lightly jogged over to the door. “But I've got to get back before my mother gets cranky that I'm missing breakfast.  _ No one _ wants to make my mom cranky!” With a laugh, she left.

Harry shrugged and busied himself making tea. Draco emerged from his room freshly showered and still toweling his hair dry – which Harry found incongruent with the way the Slytherin Prince used magic for almost every other part of his hair care.

“I'll take a cup of whatever you're making,” Draco stated, sounding too tired to care about much of anything at the moment.

“Looks like you had a good night,” Harry remarked with a small smile.

“Actually, I really did,” Draco informed him with a brilliant grin. “I won 50,000 before Jolie fervently  _ demanded _ that I bring her back to my room and ram her into the bed.”

“ _ Fifty thousand?!?! _ ” Harry roared in astonishment.

“Give or take. I had to shove it all in a plastic shopping bag to carry back to our suite, but then I was able to go to the loo and put it in my watch so that it couldn't get lost or stolen,” Draco confirmed, now smirking. “I  _ love _ playing poker because I always win. It's a family trait. Whenever we've run short of money over the centuries, we win it! Don't get me wrong, we know when to lose and let others think they have a chance, but just when they've all let their guards down, we swoop in and clean up! Hahaha!” Then he frowned. “But I think that Bill Morrissey might be secretly shagging Angie Smith because he kept looking guilty and glancing at Brad Smith when he wasn't looking. Still, it made it that much easier for me to win everything.”

Harry couldn't help but smile at Draco's glee. “Well, I didn't really learn anything new, but I  _ did _ realize that I have to look around to see if I can figure out who would buy a stolen necklace. Chances are pretty good that the thief needs to sell it. Georgia's also more or less convinced that Kyle Ivankovich didn't do it.”

“The woman Morrissey ordered to help you?” Draco asked curiously.

“Yeah, she was extremely helpful, she just didn't know anything new,” Harry replied with a shrug.

Draco laughed. “You should have invited her back here after her shift was over.”

“That wasn't necessary as we shagged up against a wall,” Harry informed him with a shake of his head. “And I thought you were going to try to avoid meaningless one offs.”

Draco sighed a bit morosely. “I want to hold myself to a higher standard, but I can't seem to say no in the moment. I suppose that I just need to get it out of my system – as you said.”

“That's the spirit,” Harry said with an encouraging smile. His tea now ready, he carried the mug over to the pretty wrought iron and granite table. 

Once sitting, he summoned the portable floo out of his pouch and set it up. A small handful of powder tossed onto the tray produced green flames, prompting Harry to stick his head into the frame.

“Morning Shevvie – er, afternoon? Ah! Whatever time it is there.”

Siobhan laughed. “It's three in the afternoon. Hiya Harry! How are you doing?”

“Good. I'm working another case – this time in a state called Minnesota – and I honestly have no idea how long it'll take me to solve,” Harry explained.

“So... keep doing my job and make sure Zoe's taken care of?” Siobhan stated more than asked.

“Exactly!”

“No worries, I've been bringing her home with me each night so that she doesn't have accidents when no one's here. It's fine for now, but my landlord warned me that if it continues on too long, he'll have to send me an official warning to stop or I could be evicted.”

“You could always stay at my place if it comes to that,” Harry offered.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Siobhan replied with a smile. “Just so you know, you've gotten one call from a couple who're afraid of the mirror in their spare bedroom. It sounds cursed to me, so I told them you'd probably take the case, but you haven't come back and they're getting worried.”

“Bugger!” Harry exclaimed in dismay, wondering how he could possibly solves two cases half a world apart at the same time, then he perked up. “Wait, cursed you say? I'm going to make a call to Bill and see if he'll take a look.”

“I'll be here for a while yet, so have him call me,” Siobhan stated.

“Will do! Thanks Shevvie!”

“Later Harry, and have fun!”

It took Harry a few minutes to get a hold of Bill and explain the situation, but Bill readily agreed to go check it out. Once that was done, Harry walked over to sit on the sofa so that Draco had a modicum of privacy if he wanted to use the floo.

“Draco, love! Are you finally coming home?” Narcissa asked, delighted to see her son.

“Well, actually, I'm working another case. This one is rather fascinating – a man was accused of stealing a valuable necklace and a friend of his is paying us to prove his innocence, meanwhile, the owner of the necklace is paying us to find it.”

“So you're getting paid twice for the same job?” Lucius asked, sipping on a cup of tea.

“Exactly!” Draco exclaimed in glee. He looked at his mother again. “I'm still having a lot of fun. For example, I played poker with our client last night.”

“And naturally you cleaned him out,” Lucius said with a proud grin.

“Naturally,” Draco agreed with a grin.

“Is there any danger involved?” Narcissa asked fretfully.

“Not so far as I can tell. Certainly nothing like the minor amount of danger we ran into when we returned a stolen boat and I'm almost certain that the owner was going to have his men make us permanently disappear before we Disillusioned ourselves and flew away. It was easy enough for us to remain in charge of the situation with our magic, and actually the most danger I was in was of getting sunburned while swimming with a dolphin – but thankfully, I remembered to protect myself.”

Harry couldn't help but snicker at that.

Draco pulled his head out of the fire for a moment. “Oi, shut it, Potter!” He stuck his head back in the fire. “In any case, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not sure when I'll be home.”

“You forgot to tell them that you've taken us shopping at nearly every boutique in America and have souvenirs to give them when you do finally get back home,” Harry added.

“Of course I bought souvenirs, and I said shut it, Potter. I didn't interrupt your call home,” Draco pointed out, only half pulling his head out of the fire this time.

“You're right, sorry,” Harry apologized, feeling bad now.

“You bought souvenirs?” Narcissa asked with interest.

“Did you think I wouldn't?” Draco asked, mildly offended.

“I didn't think you'd have time,” Narcissa replied.

“Ah well, each time we finish a job, we take an entire day just to look around the city and shop, so yes, I bought souvenirs.”

“Lovely,” Narcissa murmured with a smile.

“I should probably be going now. We've got a lot to do today, but I heard during my poker game that the biggest mall in America is relatively nearby, so maybe I'll get a chance to go shopping there for more souvenirs. I  _ did _ win a large amount of money, after all. I didn't work out the exact exchange rate from muggle dollars to Galleons, but off the top of my head, a rough estimate would be 8,000 – which is a nice amount to go shopping with.”

“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “But remember, a wise man never spends all the money he has on him – saving most of it for bribes and other necessities.”

“Of course,” Draco agreed with a smile. “I'll call you tomorrow or the next day, depending on how busy I get.”

“Have fun love!” Narcissa wished as Lucius murmured: “May Salazar smile upon you.”

Draco pulled his head out of the fire to find that Harry had come to sit at the table again and was busy writing with his finger on the instant owl paper a note to Dwayne that read:  _ Any idea who in the area would buy or broker the sale of a stolen necklace? _

To both of their surprise, only two minutes passed before the paper hooted at them loudly until Harry picked it up.  _ Let me firecall the local Auror office and see if anyone knows anything about the local no-maj criminals. Maybe there's a fence or something you can look into. _

With a smile, Harry wrote:  _ Thank you, I look forward to your response. _

Another loud hoot announced:  _ No problem! _

They had plenty of time to order breakfast. Both of them opted for a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, hashbrowns, toast with jam, orange juice, grape juice, and more tea. Draco also ordered raw chicken legs for Adira, assuring the staff that he didn't plan to eat them raw, but that he definitely  _ needed _ them raw. They were reluctant, but agreed. 

As they waited for and then ate their breakfast, they watched a movie on TV called the Matrix. Adira gobbled down her food and made a trip to the loo (she was toilet trained) before flying around the room. She finally settled on Draco's lap to watch the movie too as he petted her. It was a somewhat trippy movie that asked the question: What would life be like if people found out that they were actually dreaming inside a sort of computer program?

Neither Draco nor Harry truly understood muggle technology enough to fully grasp this concept, but Harry did at least know what computers were and had played games on his cousin's on the rare occasion that he was home alone. They discussed, argued, and bickered over whether it was possible for someone to basically wake up one day and be in the shape necessary to do all the fighting and other stuff in the movie.

Dwayne insta-owled them near the end of the movie. His questioning had uncovered a possible fence they could interview –  _ not _ that a criminal was likely to give them any information. After the movie, Harry showered and got dressed so that they could get to work. But first, they had to figure out how to get around. After much debating, they finally decided on a taxicab so that they didn't have to worry about  _ finding _ the address they were given.

An hour later, they were deep in a city called Minneapolis. The cab dropped them off outside a dingy little shop called Thompson and Sons – which was apparently a not so affluent pawn shop. It was impossible to see in the windows as they were all covered in bars and chains. The door itself was heavily barred, and Draco couldn't understand why such security was needed to protect what looked like heaps of rubbish.

They stepped up to a counter and smiled at the sales lady. “We're looking for Erik Thompson.”

She eyed them critically. She was older and had white hair styled into a sort of helmet of curls and looked tough as nails. Deciding that they might be legitimate clients, she inclined her head at them.

“You don't look like cops – Actually you look like you could be Feds. What's Erik done now?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. We're just looking for something in particular and word is that he might have it.”

“That so? Hmm...” She clearly didn't believe them, but decided that their British accents were unlikely for American agents. Cupping a hand alongside her mouth, she called out at the top of her lungs: “ERIK! GET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS OUT HERE!!!”

A door in the back part of the shop slammed open. “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU YELLING AT ME GRAMS?!”

“DON'T TAKE THAT SHITTY TONE OF VOICE WITH ME, YOU DISRESPECTFUL PUNK!”

“I'M BUSY BACK HERE, SO UNLESS THE SHOP'S ON FUCKING FIRE, FUCK OFF!”

“GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE BEFORE I GO BACK THERE AND PADDLE IT!”

Stomping suggested that the threat had worked. “GODDAMNIT GRAMS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!”

Now that he was in the same part of the shop, she stopped yelling at the top of her lungs. “Shut your fucking dickhole, you useless piece of shit! You got company!”

“I... what???” Erik asked in confusion. Customers who wanted him specifically usually drove around to the back of the shop and knocked on the black steel door. Deals were made, and no cameras caught any of them in the act.

“Erik Thompson?” Harry asked, puzzled because the man was actually about the same age as Harry, and  _ not _ at all what he expected of a professional fence.

Erik's face lit up like Christmas had just arrived five months early. “HARRY FUCKING POTTER!!! OH MY GOD! TELL PAPPY TO BEAT ME WITH HIS DICK BECAUSE I  _ MUST _ BE DREAMING!”

Both Draco and Harry raised a brow at that. “Er...”

The old woman harrumphed. “Your grandpa stopped being able to get it up a good five years ago and you know it.”

“Yeah yeah, grams, shut up,” Erik muttered, beckoning to Harry and Draco. “Come on, let's go in back.”

Harry  _ knew _ this wasn't appropriate in the slightest, but he just had to know: “Did your grandfather  _ really _ , er...”

Erik made a derisive noise and flapped his hand. “Pappy has literally and figuratively screwed  _ everyone _ in this family. We all threw a party when he went permanently limp. That's not what you came here to talk about, is it?”

“No,” Harry stated, more than a little appalled by how normal this bloke thought his sentence was. He watched Erik slam the door shut now that they were in the back room. “We came here because we wanted to ask if you bought or helped sell this necklace.” He held up a high quality photo of it.

Erik immediately changed demeanor from a somewhat happy young man to a cautious and suspicious criminal. “Just my luck,” he muttered unappreciatively. “I get a visit from the most famous wizard in the world, and he wants to shove his nose in my business.”

Harry shook his head. “Listen, we're not here to arrest you or turn you in or anything like that. All I want is a little information. If you bought this necklace, who sold it to you?”

Erik scrutinized them shrewdly for a long moment.

Draco casually pulled 500 dollars out of his pocket. “We'd be happy to reward you for the information.”

Clearly lusting after the money, Erik stared at Draco's hands for another long moment. Suddenly, he held his hand out and waited for Draco to hand over the money.

“Alright, I'll tell you something, but  _ only _ because you're Harry Potter. A man  _ did _ come to me asking to have the necklace fenced, but it's above my pay grade. If I so much as  _ breathed _ on it, I'd be hauled into jail and likely raped every five minutes because my ass is so pretty. The rest of me's not bad either,” he added with a knowing smirk.

Both Harry and Draco tilted their head to the side and half shrugged because the short man with shaved nearly bald black hair, black eyes, and a lithe but muscular body was actually rather fit and nice to look at. Thus, he was probably right. Erik saw the fact that they weren't arguing and turned around to wiggle his ass at them.

“You like?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I'm not horny at the moment, but thanks for the offer. I'd much rather you tell me who this man was.”

“I can't,” Erik stated. “Not without endangering my life because my clients think I'm untrustworthy. But I  _ can _ tell you this... it wasn't that man the cops are after. Whether he actually did steal it or not, I can't say. All I know is that he's not the one trying to sell it. Someone much more important is.”

“How do you know he's important?” Draco wondered.

“He arrived in a limo. At the very least, he's got money,” Erik answered with a shrug.”

“Alright,” Harry replied. “Thanks.” He led Draco out the back door of the shop. They looked around the back alley and – seeing no one – used the privacy to Apparate back to their suite.

Draco frowned at Harry curiously. “Why haven't you just cast your location spell on it?”

“I was going to, but not last night because it was getting late. And this morning, I had a lead to follow. But now that I'm out of leads again, I think it's our only option.” He pulled out his wand and set it on his right palm. “Point Me stolen two million dollar necklace!” The wand promptly began to glow and point out the window into the distance. Harry was actually a little surprised that it worked since he didn't have an actual name – such as Firebolt – or other identifying information to call it.

“I guess we're going to have to fly around under Disillusionment charms again,” Draco muttered, wishing he'd known to bring his own broom with him. But then again, he wouldn't be able to see Harry to follow him, so it was probably for the best that they had to share.

“Looks like,” Harry agreed. He decided that it would be easiest to fly out the window once Disillusioned, rather than leave the hotel and try to find a good spot to cast spells and take off from.

After a while, Harry realized that they were following a car around the city. Actually,  _ out _ of the city. They followed the car – limo – all the way to a much nicer office building in Minneapolis then the pawn shop had been. A man got out of the car, and despite being in his late thirties or early forties, he was good looking enough that both Harry and Draco moaned unconsciously in longing. Then they chuckled and nudged each other playfully.

As the man got out of his limo, they heard him talking on his cellphone. “Yes Honey, I'll be on a flight home tonight. I bought you a little present, and it was a very good deal too.” He looked in a square box that looked like it was velvet on the outside and silk on the inside. It had a hinge, rim, and latch that looked like they might be made out of real gold. Inside the box was the stolen necklace. He shut the box and slipped it into his leather satchel.

Without any shame whatsoever, Harry silently summoned the box containing the necklace. It disappeared into his pouch before the man noticed it missing. He was too focused on his conversation anyway.

“ _ Yes _ Honey. Yes... yes... look, we'll discuss this when I get home! I love you too. Yes... uh-huh. See you later. Bye.” He finally hung up. Then he glanced in his satchel. “She'll be in a much better mood when I give her this – ah! Where did it go???”

Harry and Draco repressed their sniggering until they were far enough away that he wouldn't hear him.

“Serves him right for buying a stolen necklace,” Harry pronounced.

Draco shrugged. “He may not have known it was stolen. He looked like an actual businessman.”

“In any case, once we solve the mystery of who actually  _ did _ steal it, we might be able to see that he gets his money back,” Harry said.

Draco didn't say anything because he didn't care either way.

Harry sighed morosely. “Now we still have to solve the case. It won't do us any good to return the necklace until we can prove Kyle wasn't the culprit.

“True,” Draco murmured in agreement.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, not that Draco could see him do it. “I can't just cast a Point Me Thief!” Harry roared in frustration, and to his credit, his wand  _ did not _ activate, thus proving him right.

“That would be convenient,” Draco murmured. “But since we can't, I suggest that we go to the Mall of America.”

Harry abruptly stopped the broom in mid flight, nearly throwing them both off it. “WHAT???”

“We've got nothing better to do today, so why not?” Draco challenged.

Sighing in defeat, Harry landed the broom so that they could end their Disillusionment spells and hail a cab.

Several exhausting hours – and dinner at the Rainforest Cafe, which Draco paid for – later, they were finally back in their hotel room once more.

“I'm going to go ask Georgia a few more questions,” Harry announced as Draco lay all his purchases out on his bed to decide what he wanted to wear in the morning.

“You mean shag her!” Draco exclaimed with an amused snort.

Harry merely shrugged before leaving the suite. In the lobby, he was relieved to find that she actually was on duty again. That said, he noticed a name plate on the wall that said she was the night manager, so it seemed fitting that she was there.

“Hi there,” she greeted with a pleased purr.

“Hi,” Harry returned with a grin. “Something occurred to me today... I know that there're no security cameras in the safe room, but aren't there cameras out here?”

“Of course!” Georgia assured him.

“So... one of them might show anyone who went near the safe room?” Harry wondered.

Georgia frowned in thought. “Hmm... I suppose that the one pointing this direction –” She paused to point at the camera and then point in the direction it recorded, which was across the lobby without a clear view of the safe room door. Even so, she was right, someone going into it might be caught in the perimeter of the recording.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Mr. Morrissey  _ did _ say that you should help me in any way I need, so do you think you could show me the footage from that camera?”

“Sure thing. It's actually best if we watch it in the safe room,” she said with a grin as she picked up a laptop and carried it with her toward the indicated room.

Chuckling, Harry followed her, nodding at the girl now manning the front desk. This time, Georgia wanted to get to the fun before finishing the business, so she set the laptop on the safe and sat on the only chair in the room. Her panties slipped off easily before she spread her legs and beckoned Harry to get on his knees before her.

A half an hour later, they were tangled up in a sated pile on the floor with the laptop on Georgia's stomach. She pulled up footage starting with when Brad Smith had checked the necklace into the safe, and then fast forwarded it until it looked like someone went near the safe room – at which point, she'd go back a bit and play it on slow so that they could get a good look. For the most part, it was all normal. Two other guests had things checked into the safe – which had not gotten stolen – and one guest checked something  _ out _ of the safe.

At one point, Kyle gestured – and probably talked to – the employee cleaning the lobby. He then walked out of the main doors and stayed out there for a good 20 minutes. Georgia went to fast forward again, but movement made her stop and frown.  _ Someone _ entered the safe room, careful to remain mostly out of sight of the camera. About two minutes later, the person emerged, his face in profile and not clearly recognizable to Harry, but Georgia gasped.

“Mr. Morrissey!”

Harry frowned. “Was he on the list of people who accessed the safe room?”

“No...”

They watched the rest of the footage, witnessing all of the employees who had been in the room that night go in and out during the normal course of their jobs. Harry bit his lip in thought. It really looked like the  _ owner _ of the hotel had done something shady, possibly stealing the necklace.

“Go back to that,” he ordered and Georgia knew instantly what he was referring to. Even as he wrote down the time and date on the screen during the paused frame, he asked if she could somehow print it up.

“Screen cap,” she stated as if this meant something to him. He watched as she hit a combination of keys which made the screen go dark for a moment. Then, she dug around until she found a folder named screen caps. From there, she clicked on a file – which turned out to be a picture of the screen – and told it to print. “Get dressed. We're going to need to go over to the printer.”

“Right,” Harry agreed, helping her to her feet. They both pulled their clothes on as quickly as possible, it having occurred to them that the girl working the front desk might look at the page as it printed and maybe get confused or even call their boss. Luckily, she was engaged with a guest and hadn't even noticed the printer activate.

Georgia handed the printed picture to Harry with a mildly frightened smile. He understood that she was probably risking her job and now having second thoughts. With an encouraging smile, he thanked her and went back to his suite.

“Where exactly do you shag her? Right on the front desk?” Draco wondered, barely looking away from the telly to glance at Harry.

“In the safe room,” Harry answered with a chuckle.

“Bold,” Draco stated approvingly.

Harry sat on the couch next to Draco and smirked. “And I  _ told _ you that I was going to ask her more questions. Here.”

Draco took the picture and tilted his head side to side as he looked at it. “Is that... Bill Morrissey?”

“Looks like,” Harry murmured as he summoned the file from his pouch. From the folder, he found and pulled a paper he'd gotten yesterday. “This is the list of who accessed the safe room and when. … Look! The time that Mr. Morrissey snuck in and out of the room not only coincides with the time that Kyle went on his unauthorized break, but it's  _ also _ when Kyle is listed as going into the safe room. Damn it! I should have had her print up a picture of him leaving the building.”

“Is there a way that she could print up the entire footage of him not in the building?” Draco asked. “Which would at least prove reasonable doubt. Wouldn't it?”

“I hope so,” Harry said, not entirely sure. He stood up abruptly. “I'm going to talk to Georgia again.”

“Already? Good God, Potter! I think it usually takes me at least twice as long to recover for another go.”

Harry snorted in amusement. “Not for that!”

A half an hour later, he was back and held all the evidence he needed in his hands. Georgia had not only printed up the screen cap of Kyle leaving the building, but she had  _ also _ burned clips of the relevant footage onto a computer disc for him. He took the time to duplicate everything for Draco to have a copy of the file. And then he duplicated it all again just in case he needed to send it to the police.

“Now what?” Draco asked, more than a little engrossed in the movie he was watching on the telly – which was called Cruel Intentions. “These people are bloody mental,” he grumbled as he shook his head at the characters.

“Well, I'm not a cop – or an Auror for that matter. My job  _ isn't _ to bring the culprit to justice. My job is to prove Kyle's innocence and return the necklace. I can do that with this. I  _ think _ we should probably just bring this to Mr. Smith and let him do what he wants with it – provided he agrees to see to it that all charges against Ivankovich are dropped,” Harry suggested.

Draco nodded in agreement. “Alright, let me just change – and I suggest you change too. We should be wearing suits when we conclude our business with Mr. Smith.”

Harry sighed in mild aggravation, but didn't argue.

Right about nine o'clock, they knocked on the door to the Ordway Suite. This made it almost exactly 24 hours since they'd taken the job. The door opened cautiously, but then Brad Smith smiled at them.

“Draco, my boy! Are you here to let me win back all my money?” He beckoned them in eagerly.

“I never let anyone win money from me,” Draco assured him with a smirk.

“Besides, half of it was mine!” An unknown man called out. At least he was unknown to Harry. Draco had played poker with him after all.

“No, actually, we're here to finish the case. Perhaps we should do this in private?”

Brad looked surprised and more than a little intrigued. “Is that so? Well, in that case... excuse me gentlemen. I'll be back in a bit.”

Harry looked around and noted that Mr. Morrissey was  _ not _ among the guests around the table – who were playing poker again. Draco looked like he'd  _ far _ rather join the game, but decided that he needed to stick with Harry in case anything went wrong at the last moment. They followed Mr. Smith out of the suite and into a nearby meeting room.

“I've been using this room for meetings all week, so it should offer us all the privacy we need,” he explained. With a sweeping gesture, he invited Harry and Draco to sit at the nearest table.

“First of all, you hired us to recover your necklace, and we did,” Harry informed him, pulling the velvet case out of his pocket – which had been charmed by Mr. Swinson to have much more room than a regular pocket.

Brad Smith  _ definitely _ looked impressed now. “ _ Fuck _ that was fast!”

Harry chuckled and shrugged. “Consider it a special talent of mine.”

“Consider it bloody good luck,” Draco added, also chuckling.

“ _ Anyway, _ I'm going to stop here and collect our reward unless I have your word that no matter what you decide to do, you guarantee that all charges against Kyle – the employee accused of stealing it – are dropped,” Harry insisted.

“I won't guarantee that unless you can prove that he didn't do it. If you can, then I have no problem having the charges dropped,” Brad said in all seriousness.

Harry decided to trust him. “Alright. Here's a picture of Kyle leaving the lobby at the time of the theft. There's also footage on this disc that proves he was out of the building when the security door log to the safe room says he was in there. And here...” he paused to take a deep breath, sensing that this was going to cause Brad Smith some justified anger. “Is a picture taken from footage showing that Bill Morrissey was actually the one who accessed the room using Kyle's code. Now I can't say for sure that this was when it was stolen, or that Mr. Morrissey was the one who stole it, but I do think that it's strong evidence that Kyle  _ didn't _ .”

Brad had already exclaimed: “Son of a bitch!” And jumped to his feet to pace the room as Harry talked. He hopped and pounded his fists together like a fighter preparing for a match. After a moment of silence, he sighed and faced a wary Harry and Draco again. “Fine, I'll make sure all charges are dropped. I take it you don't care how I handle this from here?”

“Not at all,” Draco assured him with a shake of his head.

“Good. Then I'll deal with it personally. Bill's a good friend and I'm sure he probably had his reasons. I want to talk to him before I decide if he needs to be turned in or not. Out of curiosity, how did you find the necklace so soon when the police couldn't find it during the course of days?”

Harry shrugged and lied. “I noticed Mr. Morrissey looking guilty when he left the hotel and followed him to a meeting where he sold the necklace. Then I followed the buyer and recovered it when he wasn't looking. In essence, I stole it back for you. You  _ might _ also want to see that he gets his money back – but he said he was going to be on a flight tonight, so that might not be easy.”

“Told you it was bloody good luck,” Draco added with a smirk.

“Okay. What do I owe you again?”

“10,000 each,” Draco stated calmly, making Harry's eyes bulge in shock.

“Right,” Brad agreed, pulling out his checkbook and writing them each a check. After he left the room, Harry gaped at Draco.

“How could you make him pay that much?!”

Draco gave him a look that clearly stated he was being stupid again. “The necklace is valued at over two  _ million _ dollars, Potter. I think most people would have charged a  _ ten percent _ recovery fee, but I only charged  _ one _ . And then I split it in half so that each of us only got paid  _ half a percent _ for a job that could legitimately have paid 10 times that!”

“Alright!” Harry capitulated defensively.

“And in the same vein, if I wasn't so wary of our lives, I  _ definitely _ would have charged Mr. Weston more for recovering his boat. It may have only been worth a few hundred thousand dollars, but his sentimental drugs and money in the safe were worth millions, so we could have gotten a lot more out of him – especially since I think he was just going to murder us and take it all back anyway,” Draco ranted.

“Now you just sound greedy,” Harry grumbled.

“ _ No _ , I sound like a  _ smart _ businessman,” Draco insisted a little snobbishly. “From now on, whenever we need to have payment negotiations, you keep your damn mouth shut, got it?!”

Harry sighed. “ _ Fine _ ... so long as you promise me  _ not _ to bleed dry those who can't afford to pay as much.”

“Why would we take jobs from someone who can't pay?” Draco asked, baffled.

Harry rolled his eyes and glared at Draco. “ _ Because _ my business is helping people – not  _ rich _ people, but people who need help, regardless of how much money they have.”

“Gryffindor,” Draco accused with a defeated sigh. “Alright, fine. Anytime the client seems too poor to pay at least a thousand dollars, I'll leave the negotiation up to you.”

“Good,” Harry stated with a pleased smile.

“Now let's go get a good night sleep so that I can see if there're any other good places to shop around here.”

Harry thunked his head on the table with a frustrated sigh.

 


	11. What Happened to Joshua Collins?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During some naked down time, Harry learns about a new case.

 

Harry wanted to stay in Minnesota and wait for the muggle police to officially clear Kyle Ivankovich before he sent the file to Robert Ward, and that could take a day or so. So, with that in mind, Harry suffered through a morning of shopping before buttering Draco up with lunch at a five star restaurant called Meritage. Despite the fact that Draco had won five times the amount that Harry had earned (not to mention his own payment), he still took pleasure in the fact that Harry was paying.

Draco ordered cassoulet and steak frites with b è arnaise on the side, and a crème br û l é e for dessert. Plus a pricey bottle of wine, of course. Harry ordered steak tartar, jumbo shrimp, and mixed oysters with chocolate mousse for dessert. He opted to share Draco's wine – not because he actually liked wine – although the stuff Draco ordered always exceeded his expectations – but because he was half afraid that he was going to be spending his entire paycheck here.

They bickered lightly about this and that as they ate. When they were done, Draco delicately wiped his mouth with the linen napkin and set it on the table. “Alright, out with it. What trap do you have for me this time?”

Grinning, Harry sat up a bit straighter. “We're going to visit the Boundary Waters!”

“The what now?” Draco questioned.

“The Boundary Waters,” Harry stated without explaining anything. “I've ordered us a Portkey to arrive in about – oh... 10 minutes. Looks like I estimated how long it takes you to eat fairly well after all. It's nearby enough that we'll be able to Apparate back to our hotel room when were done.”

“I'm not going to like this, am I?” Draco asked warily.

Harry merely shrugged and settled the bill so that they had time to make a trip to the loo. To Harry's embarrassment, the house elf popped into the stall with him and handed him the key ring with a miniature wooden canoe dangling from it. The elf held up a hand to indicate five minutes before leaving. Harry quickly wiped and flushed as he pulled up his trousers.

Five minutes later, they were spit out in the air above a place called LaTourell's Moose Lake Outfitters. Floating down, Draco looked around at all the rugged wilderness. And water. Lots and lots of water.

Inside, the employees seemed surprised that Harry and Draco had made it that far without already obtaining permits and at least some equipment, but since they had money, the employees didn't really care. They loaded the pair up with everything they needed, and then gave them tips on successful canoeing. Which led to a few hours of bliss for Harry as he and Draco – after a bit of initial bickering – figured out how to work together and paddle around.

Stunning wilderness, interesting wildlife, and a sense of peace pervaded the entire area. At least until they decided to take a break from paddling for a while and try their hand at fishing. That provoked a bit more bickering until they figured out exactly how to work their fishing poles. Magic helped a  _ lot _ since Draco refused to touch the bait with his hands and spelled them onto the hook. It also helped whenever they actually caught a fish since they could magic the fish off the hook and release it back into the water without hurting it.

Still, Draco got bored rather quickly and started whinging. Since it wasn't quite late enough for dinner – and they weren't hungry yet anyway – Harry decided to take advantage of the mid July weather and have them swim. They used dressing spells to change from what they were wearing – Harry was in jeans and a tee but Draco was in something rather posh – into swim cozzies. He also reminded Draco to wear the swim shoes the outfitters insisted they have. These were like really thin rubber and nylon trainers, but didn't have laces.

Draco wouldn't admit this until his dying breath, but he had a lot of fun simply swimming around and splashing Harry. Harry returned the favor and even tackled him into the water a few times – which Draco retaliated by actually lifting him out of the water and throwing him back in it. When they eventually got hungry, they paddled the canoe towards a shore with a sandy beach and “parked” it.

Harry had prepared by bringing sandwiches, which they ate as they hiked around the nearly nonexistent trails. This was entertaining for a while. Draco even considered letting Harry pick a campsite for the night, but then...

“Are those  _ wolves _ ?” Draco demanded, stepping behind Harry.

“Er... yes?” Harry replied, uncertain of whether this would deter Draco from continuing their hike.

“I'm  _ not _ staying here if there are wolves, Potter!”

“Are you afraid?” Harry asked, inexplicably amused.

“Not of one or two, but wolves travel in  _ packs, _ moron, and  _ packs _ can overpower even the most powerful wizard. You can tempt fate like an idiot and stay the night in a place you  _ know _ has wolves, but  _ I'm _ going back to the hotel in St. Paul!”

Harry sighed and nodded. “Alright, Malfoy. We had enough fun for one day. Let's paddle this canoe back to LaTourell's and then we can leave.”

Draco felt inexplicably bad for some reason. “The bald eagles and peregrine falcons were breathtaking. I didn't even mind those loons wailing all the time.”

Harry looked over to where a distinctive type of duck called a loon – according to the guide book they'd bought – was swimming near the shore. A moment later, another loon appeared, leading two small and fluffy black chicks. “Aww, how cute!”

Draco shrugged and stroked Adira, who had flown in front of his face as if making sure he was still there. “I think Adira's even had her fill of minnows.”

Which was sort of a relief because it was easier to let her feed herself when she could rather than have to provide food she approved of. She tolerated raw chicken legs, but clearly preferred fish and other wild caught food. As if agreeing with him, she landed on his shoulder and took her now habitual place. This meant that the bulk of her body was on his shoulder (which one changed when she wanted to switch positions), while her tail wrapped around the back of his neck to dangle down the front of his other shoulder.

“She's surprisingly easy to care for considering that she's an actual dragon that came from a shrunken egg,” Harry remarked.

“Stop that Potter! You're  _ not _ going to trick me into revealing secret information by pretending like I already told it to you,” Draco mildly snarled.

Harry laughed. “Worth a shot!”

About an hour later, they returned their rented equipment, stowed what they had been required to buy outright (such as the water shoes), and Apparated back to their suite.

Harry gave serious thought to whether or not he should go visit with Georgia again. Just when he was pacing the room in indecision – Draco watching him in mildly baffled amusement – someone knocked on the door. Harry opened it to find Georgia  _ and _ Jolie.

“Hi, I don't work tonight, and so I was visiting with Jolie here, and she mentioned that she was  _ dying _ to screw your friend again, so I thought, why not come see if you were interested in some company?”

Harry stepped back to look at Draco. He thought maybe they might need a minute to discuss how tired they were. They  _ had _ just spent about eight or nine hours canoeing, swimming, and hiking after all. Rather than say a word, Draco grabbed Jolie by the hand and led her to his bedroom.

“Well alright then,” Harry murmured in amusement. “Come on in.”

Georgia – obviously very familiar with the room, she did work here after all – walked right over to Harry's bedroom and started stripping off. Smiling, Harry followed her and kicked the door shut behind him.

The next morning, Harry woke up when Jolie slipped into the room and tapped on Georgia's shoulder. “Switch?” She asked in a whisper.

“Hell yeah,” Georgia exclaimed softly, slipping out of bed so that she could walk (naked) over to Draco's room.

Harry rolled over in bed and watched as Jolie – also naked – did her best to ensure that they both had a pleasant morning.

An hour or so later, Harry was  _ starving _ and not particularly concerned with modesty as he padded into the living room and made a call to room service. “I'd like everything you've got.”

“Pardon me?” The man taking his order questioned in confusion.

“Basically I exercised way too vigorously last night and this morning – and that was after canoeing all day yesterday – and now I feel like I could eat a bear. I'll take an order of whatever you can have up here in five minutes or less,” Harry explained.

“Make that two orders!” Draco called out from his bedroom.

“Three!” Jolie added.

“Four!” Georgia insisted. “And let them know that you get my discount!” 

“Alright, apparently we need  _ four _ orders of whatever you can get here in five minutes or less, and Georgia says that we get her discount – whatever that is,” Harry informed the man.

He chuckled. “Yes sir, and don't worry, none of us would dare risk upsetting Georgia.”

“Good to know,” Harry murmured before he hung up the phone.

“Oh my God!” Hermione's voice startled him. “Sorry! I didn't think you'd be naked!”

Harry turned to face the portable floo, chuckling at the fact that Hermione was blushing and covering her eyes. “Mione, you've seen me naked before.”

“Well, yeah, but when I was expecting it,” she grumbled.

“Listen, unless there's a dire emergency, I'm going to have to call you back. I've got a guest,” Harry informed her.

“Oh, er, alright. Sorry,” she apologized. “Talk to you later.”

Jolie was laying on the bed so that she could see the thing on the table through the open door. “Whoa! That's the coolest fucking video conference device that I've ever seen!”

“Right?!” Georgia called out from Draco's bedroom, where she was snuggling with him and he had attempted to block her view. “It almost looked like her head was in a green fire!”

“Technology,” Harry said, flinging his hands up in the air. “It's amazing the things they can do these days.”

“Where'd you get that?” Jolie asked.

“I have a friend that owns a tech company. He has lots of weird prototypes,” Harry only half lied. He technically  _ did _ have such a friend, but the portable floo had actually been given to them by MACUSA.

“Cool! I'm going to have to do a search on the internet!” Jolie exclaimed.

Thankfully, their breakfast arrived before Harry had to answer any more questions. He still didn't particularly care that he was strutting around naked, so he answered the door and directed the delivery girl – who blushed but fully admired the view – to park the cart over by the table.

“I'll make sure we scrounge up a tip for you later on!” Georgia called out as she slowly slipped out of bed and stretched. “None of us have pockets at the moment.”

“Yes ma'am,” the girl stated, nodding respectfully as she left the suite. 

They each grabbed a plate and got comfortable. Harry and Georgia on the couch and Draco and Jolie at the table. Georgia traced a curious finger on Harry's chest.

“I've been wondering how you got this burn?”

“Oh, erm...” Harry trailed off as he thought about how to explain it to a muggle.

“I wondered that as well,” Jolie added.

“Well, I was wearing a locket, and I got too close to a malfunctioning electrical device. It sent a bolt of electricity to the locket, which got hot really fast and took a few seconds for a friend to cut it off me, so, I got burned.”

“Oh, that sucks!” Georgia murmured in sympathy.

Jolie reached out and traced a finger on Draco's chest. “They're faint, but you have scars too.”

Actually, all the sun Draco had gotten recently had made his skin a sort of golden color, making the scars a bit more visible. Harry sat up rigidly straight and looked over at Draco.

“You do?”

Draco looked away from him and refused to answer, although, now that Harry was looking, he could clearly see them.

“ _ Oh my God! I'm so sorry! _ ”

Draco held up a hand imperiously. “Stop right there, Potter. I don't need an apology since you made up for nearly murdering me by saving my life. Twice. So  _ do not _ start wailing like a melodramatic banshee.”

Harry set his plate aside and tossed his head in his hands. “I was such a stupid boy! I had no idea what that, er,  _ thing _ would do to you! I should have been sent to prison!”

Draco threw a large butter knife at Harry's head, which hit him with a thunk and bounced off. “Fucking stop! I  _ knew _ you were going to start wailing worse than Moaning Myrtle!”

“Oi, I feel bloody guilty!” Harry roared.

Draco threw Jolie's butter knife at him, which Harry caught and threw back.

“And stop being an arse, Malfoy, and let me apologize and get it over with!”

“Bugger off, Potter. I knew you were sorry the moment you did it, and as I said, you saved my life twice, by pulling me out of a massive fire and by preventing a blood thirsty madman from murdering me. Three times if you count the fact that you defeated a megalomaniac hell bent on world domination after  _ he _ threatened to murder me too!”

Harry pursed his lips and twisted them to the side. “So what you're saying is that you're such a bloody prick that everyone wants to murder you and I'm the only one who nearly succeeded but turned around and saved you from all the others?”

Draco glared at him, throwing the knife again. “Am not!”

Harry caught and returned it once more. They were both seekers and so had the reflexes to do this all day if they wanted. “Are so, and I'll say it officially and stop wailing about it. I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing and I should've never used something I didn't  _ know _ what it would do.”

Draco growled, but then nodded. “Alright, fine, apology accepted.”

“Now if you'd just stop provoking people until they want to murder you, you might actually pay off your life debt before you die of old age,” Harry added.

Draco threw the knife at him again. “Watch it, Potter, before I'm tempted to murder  _ you _ .”

Harry snorted in amusement, throwing the knife back. “I'd like to see you try.”

“Oh no, you wouldn't see it coming,” Draco assured him.

Harry laughed while Georgia and Jolie chuckled nervously. “I think we should go hiking again today.”

“Do you have  _ any _ idea how hard that is on my hair and skin?!” Draco demanded. “I need to visit a spa just to recover from yesterday!”

“And now you sound like a ponce, or maybe a princess,” Harry taunted, catching and returning the knife when Draco threw it at him again.

“Sod off! Not all of us are content to look like a  _ troll _ !”

Harry shrugged. “I wouldn't call it content, exactly.”

“You two remind me of my brothers!” Georgia burst out with a grin.

Jolie chuckled. “They remind me of a frienemy of mine. I have a friend who was always a backstabbing bitch. Always out for herself, but at the exact same time, could perform some astonishing acts of loyalty and friendship. She was the only one who was there for me when my first boyfriend broke my heart. She went and slashed his tires for me.”

She sighed and fiddled with her glass of orange juice for a moment. “Then she fell in with a controlling bastard who wouldn't even let her out of the house half the time. We sort of drifted apart for a few years. Then two days ago, she came to me sobbing because the asshole had taken their two year old son and ran away. Police are looking for them, but they're pretty sure he had time to leave the country before she realized they were missing.”

“I saw that on the news,” Georgia murmured in sympathy.

“She begged me to help her because she knows I have money, but what can I do?” Jolie asked in frustration.

Draco groaned and rolled his head around on his shoulders. Thankfully, Adira was still sleeping on a chair in his bedroom – invisibly. Otherwise, she would have protested the rolling by breathing fire on his neck.

“You're going to do the bloody bleeding heart Gryffindor thing, aren't you?”

Harry scoffed dismissively. “Of course I am!”

“What does that mean?” Jolie asked with a puzzled frown.

“It means that I happen to specialize in finding lost things,” Harry explained.

“You  _ did _ find my father's necklace,” Jolie murmured speculatively.

“I'll do my best to make sure this little boy is safe as soon as possible,” Harry vowed.

“Will you at  _ least _ charge her a decent fee for our services?” Draco grumbled.

“No, but I tell you what, after we talk to this woman today and I figure out the best course of action, we're more than likely going to need to stay one more night before setting out.  _ So _ you'll have an opportunity to play poker again and win however much you think is a fair payment for this job,” Harry suggested.

Draco pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “It's not about the money, it's about being compensated for our services. We're doing a legitimate job and we should get a legitimate fee for it.”

“Yeah but we got a large fee for the necklace, so we don't need much of anything for this little boy,” Harry argued.

“Again,  _ moron _ , this little boy is a precious and valuable life, and as such, shouldn't be valued so cheaply,” Draco pointed out.

Harry sighed, feeling like he was never going to win this argument no matter how right he was.

Jolie chuckled a little. “Well, perhaps I can solve the problem. I know how good you are at your job, so I'll pay you 5000 dollars to take this job. Just promise me that you do whatever it takes to make sure this boy is safe.”

“Of course,” Harry assured her with a smile.

“Saving people is sort of what he does,” Draco added in a mutter.

Jolie pushed her mostly empty plate aside and stood up. “I need to get dressed, but then give me twenty or so minutes to go up to my suite and get changed and ready to go. I'll drive you to see Leah.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed.

“That'll give me time to shower and moisturize,” Draco said.

Harry raised a brow at him.

Draco rolled his eyes. “If you don't moisturize, Potter, then I pity your skin. You're going to look like a saggy old potato in your golden years.”

Harry shrugged. “I won't particularly care since it'll mean that I made it to my golden years – wrinkles and all.”

“Did you forget that you no longer have a megalomaniac trying to kill you all the time? Of course you're going to make it to your golden years, so try taking better care of yourself, yeah?” Draco told him a bit flippantly. “And good Gods! You weren't joking when you said your hair grows fast! I'm going to have to cut it again already.”

Harry flapped his hand dismissively. “Save that for later when we have nothing better to do.”

Georgia kissed him rather nicely. “Well, I suppose I should probably get dressed and go home. My roommate is probably dying to hear all the details of my night. She hasn't had a good hard fuck in over a year and I nearly brought her with because she needs it so badly.”

Jolie had already conducted a search of Draco's room for her clothes and threw them on. She now emerged from the room and kissed Draco as he was headed in. Georgia walked over to kiss him too as Jolie moved on to Harry.

“Twenty minutes,” Jolie reminded him after she gave him a flirty smooch. “Thirty if I decide to take a shower.”

“Alright, we'll be ready,” Harry agreed. He turned to watch Georgia walk into his bedroom in a search for her clothes. Suddenly a reverse strip tease sounded like a brilliant idea.

 

***

 

Jolie had a  _ nice _ Mercedes Benz. It was luxurious and extremely comfortable to ride in. It also looked really incongruous next to the cars in the parking lot of the apartment complex Leah lived in. Some of the cars were so rusted that Harry had to wonder what exactly was holding them together. They entered a tiny apartment that was clean only because there didn't appear to be enough stuff to form a proper clutter. Leah had red eyes and stared forlornly at the crib in the main room of the apartment. Much like a hotel suite, it had one small bedroom and everything else squeezed into a tiny other room – with a bathroom tucked between the two.

“I just miss him so much...” Leah whispered, looking very much haunted by things the rest of them couldn't see.

“I know,” Jolie murmured, rubbing her friend's back. She led Leah to one of two chairs and insisted that Harry sit in the other. “This is a friend of mine. He can help.”

“How can he help?” Leah demanded, clearly upset by the suggestion. “Not even the police can help! Jerry is using cash, so there's nothing to track, and the only lead they have is that Jerry's car was spotted at a gas station in a little town call Warroad on the Minnesota/Canada border. That means he's gone and no one will ever be able to find him!”

Harry remained silent as Jolie tried to calm Leah's sudden sobbing. When it looked like Leah was running out of energy, Harry took a deep breath of relief. “Do you have any of your son's hair?”

This made Leah angry again. “Why the fuck would I show you?!” She pointed to a large map of Canada on her otherwise bare wall – Harry had to assume based on it's pristine condition that it was brand new and possibly a desperate attempt to feel closer to her missing son. “My baby is  _ lost _ in a country almost as big as the US, and I have  _ no idea _ where to even start looking!  _ Why _ would you even care about his hair when  _ he _ is  _ out there _ ?!”

“Please,” Harry pleaded with a sympathetic expression. “I promise that it will help.”

Sighing in frustration, Leah pulled a small plastic baggie out of a drawer and held it up for Harry to see. Inside the baggie was a perfect curl made out of dirty blonde hair. “This was from his first haircut.”

Harry held his hand out expectantly. “What's his name?”

“Joshua. Collins because I let him have his daddy's name even though we weren't married yet. I have  _ no idea _ how Jerry didn't make me marry him back when I found out I was pregnant. He brought it up, but I resisted, and for possibly the only time, he didn't force the issue,” Leah explained more than strictly necessary.

Harry took the baggie and held it reverently. “I'm pretty sure I can find Joshua, but in order to do so, I need to break a pretty big law. I  _ need _ both of you to promise me that you'll never tell anyone that you saw me do the things I have to do.”

“I promise,” Jolie said without hesitation, but Leah suddenly looked shrewd. 

“What sort of things?”

Harry sighed in defeat and shook his head. “Things that no one will believe anyway, so it won't do you any good  _ to _ talk about them.” He carefully shook the hair out of the baggie into his left palm, and then grabbed his wand from his arm holster and held it in his right hand. “Point Me Joshua Collins!”

The hair lit up and the glow transferred to his wand, which immediately spun to point north, but then it did something unexpected. It spun in a couple of circles before flying over to the map on the wall and pointing to a place in Canada about a couple of days drive to the northwest, near a city called Saskatoon. Harry raised his brows in surprise.

“Well that's new,” he murmured as he picked up a small cordless phone and walked over to the map to get a better look. “Hi Hannah, I'm afraid I'm going to need another Portkey already, this time to a place called Sas... Saska... Saskatoon? Canada. … Yeah, we're probably going to need a hotel too, but I'm not as certain about that. We might just Apparate back here – or take a Portkey. I guess book it with the understanding that it might not be needed. Wait, I thought you couldn't book us hotels in non American countries.

Hannah laughed. “That's certainly true, but Canada is part of  _ your _ British holdings. All I need to do is call the secretary for Minister Shacklebolt, and I'm pretty sure she'll be able to deal with the hotel for you. In any case, the Portkey is no problem. It'll still take about a half an hour to arrange though.”

“Alright, thanks Hannah!” Harry praised as he hung up. He then gently poured the lock of hair back into the baggie and handed it back to Leah. After that, he grabbed his floating wand and put it back in his arm holster. Previous experience had taught him that it would glow and keep pointing out the direction until he found it, but that he wouldn't be able to use it for anything else because that would end the spell. “Can I get a recent picture of Joshua? Not to mention a picture of you that he'll recognize.”

“Oh, um, sure...” Leah trailed off as she went into her bedroom. A minute later, she returned with a 4X6 photograph of her holding the two year old on her lap. Harry took the picture and examined it. Joshua was wearing only a diaper and had a few bruises on his arms. A slightly bigger one on his chest. Meanwhile, Leah had a large red handprint on her face. Harry traced the mark with a finger.

“Jerry gave that to me,” Leah stated flatly. “But it was Josh's birthday and so we were having a little party for him. That's why Jerry took the picture. He told me that when Josh was older and asked why I looked smacked around, I was supposed to tell him that I accidentally walked into the freezer door while getting his ice cream. Fucking asshole...”

“We'll find them,” Harry assured her. “Tell me about Joshua. What's he like? What's his favorite toy. Actually, can I have his toy – or if his dad took that – another toy that he'll recognize?”

Leah told Harry about Joshua as she searched the apartment for any toys. She eventually found something called a glowworm – which was a colorful toy worm that had a hard battery pack inside it that could be removed when the batteries needed replacing. Leah seemed reluctant to part with it.

“This broke a while ago. It's why he doesn't play with it anymore. I'm not sure he'd remember it...”

“If it's all you can find, it'll have to do. It'll help him understand that I'm not the bad man trying to hurt him, but actually a man sent by you to help him,” Harry pointed out. 

Leah slowly handed it over, talking more about her son until a house elf popped into the room and scared her so that she screeched and jumped back – echoed by Jolie. The elf handed Harry a scuffed up hockey puck.

“Sir's Portkey leaves in five minutes.”

“Thank you!” Harry called out as the elf left. He then turned to look at Draco. “Need to go to the loo?”

“Probably better,” Draco stated with a shrug. He and Harry took turns going to the dank bathroom for a quick slash. 

 


	12. The Little Boy Playing in the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco find Joshua.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to child neglect and abuse.

 

At the five minute mark, Harry had the photo and toy in his pouch and was ready to go. Draco grabbed onto the puck at the right time. The next thing they knew, they were in the sky on the rural outskirts of the city. They both cast levitation charms, which gave Harry a chance to pull out his broom and wand. Draco helped by Disillusioning them all the moment they were mounted and ready to follow the wand.

It led them quite a bit south, to a park in a small town where a bunch of little kids played while their parents sat on benches and watched them. Harry sighed impatiently. How were they going to approach one specific kid without looking like creepers?

It was surprising just how many of the kids looked alike. Apparently, at just two years old, quite a few of the boys had a sort of sandy blonde hair. That said, Joshua ended up being a little smaller than all the others. And his face had a unique – slightly vacant – look to it. He was easily the happiest and most joyful kid in the park. He positively _delighted_ in how the sand felt in his hands, spending more than an hour simply picking up handfuls and letting them fall slowly back to the ground.

Also surprising was how Jerry sat a little off to the side of Joshua and built a sand castle. He ruffled Joshua's hair frequently and gave him kisses whenever he felt like it. In return, whenever the sand made Joshua squeal from joy, he flung his arms around his father's neck and gave him wet and messy toddler kisses.

Harry pulled Draco a bit off to the side where they could stop being invisible. “That doesn't look like an abusive father to me.”

Draco shrugged. “Do either of us really know what an abusive father looks like? Mine gave me everything I ever wanted. _You_ might consider him to be abusive because he encouraged me to be a Death Eater and do dangerous things, but honestly, it wasn't my father who did that. It was the Dark Lord. My father always wanted me to be safe and happy, he just made a series of bad choices that basically guaranteed the exact opposite. In any case, he sometimes yelled at me and once or twice when I was really young, he spanked me. I don't think that's abusive – although you might. My point is that abuse doesn't happen in public where others can see it. It would happen behind closed doors. So _of course_ it doesn't look like abuse to us.”

Harry took a deep breath in and held it for a moment. “Actually... I _do_ know what abuse looks like. It's being raised in a cupboard. It's being bullied and occasionally starved. It's being unloved and barely tolerated. _My_ aunt and uncle never kissed me, not even in public where they at least appeared to be nice... ish... to me. You're right in that they didn't do anything abusive in public, but they _never_ showed affection either. In my opinion, that man is not abusing his son.”

Draco gaped at Harry in astonishment, not able to think – much less speak – for a long moment. “You...”

Harry pressed his lips together and looked away.

“You were abused as a child?” Draco asked in a near whisper as if the subject was taboo and would probably offend Harry.

“Yeah, well...” Harry shrugged. “I didn't realize it at the time. I just thought my life was sucky. I thought it was _normal_. It took a long time for me to realize that no one I met at Hogwarts was occasionally locked in their rooms – I was given my own room when my Hogwarts letter came and it was addressed to me in the cupboard under the stairs. No one else talked about being starved from time to time. One of the reasons it took me so long to realize this was that I didn't think anyone would talk about it. And then I just figured that maybe everyone in Gryffindor came from particularly good families and kids in other houses might have come from normal families like mine. I think it didn't truly hit me that my family wasn't normal after all until everyone who loved me banded together to stand up to my uncle for me.”

Harry shook his head looking away again. “My _point_ is that something else is going on here.”

“Well...” Draco was struggling to figure out what to respond to. He suddenly had _so many_ questions he wanted to ask, but he could also sense that Harry wasn't quite in the mood to answer any of them. “Erm... How do we figure that out?”

Harry sighed and bit his lip. “Let me think about that a few minutes.”

After pacing around, doing his best to ignore Draco muttering about muggles who starved children and dire consequences, Harry ultimately decided that he was just going to have to go ask. He slowly – with Draco a few steps behind him – approached the abducted child and his father, holding his hands out to show that he was unarmed as he did so.

“I'm not planning to do anything, I just don't want you to think I'm a creep for coming up to you in a park without a kid of my own,” Harry murmured soothingly.

Jerry eyed him warily, but since Harry made no threatening moves and Draco had stopped ten or fifteen feet back, he let Harry come close enough to sit down and chat. Harry reached into his tiny pouched and pulled out the toy worm.

“First of all, to prove that I mean no harm, I wanted to give this back to you.”

As he held out the toy glow worm, Joshua went from looking happy to looking terrified. He started crying and threw himself into his father's arms. Jerry promptly tried to soothe him.

“Shh... Why the fu – Why would you bring that here?!” Jerry demanded.

“Listen, I don't know what's going on, but I was hired to make sure that this little boy is safe,” Harry explained.

Jerry looked gobsmacked. “ _Leah_ hired you?”

“Well, er, no. A friend of hers named Jolie Smith did,” Harry admitted. “But yes, Leah is very worried about her son and would quite like him back.”

“You can tell her to go to hell! I won't let her _near_ my son ever again!”

Harry sighed in frustration. “Listen, I promise that I'm not going to try to take your son from you. I watched you with him and I can clearly see that you love him. What I really want is for you to explain things to me. How does a woman who gave me photographic evidence that you smack her around – who's got the police looking for you – how does she tell the truth about that and still somehow manage to lie to me about the situation?”

Jerry growled in frustration. “She didn't lie, I _did_ smack her around. The thing is... Well, everyday when I went to work, she'd do things I didn't know about at first. She's a drug addict. She also deals. Apparently she sells her body to support her drug habit. I found that out the hard way when I came home sick from work and...”

He turned his son around and set him back in the sand, putting a handful of sand on Joshua's feet to distract him. Then he beckoned Harry just a couple of feet away. Speaking in a low voice, he continued.

“I found her in our bed letting a man fuck her in ways she never wanted to try with me. When I got pissed – and mind you, Joshua was about a year old and drugged up with cough syrup to make him sleep soundly in his crib – anyway, she tried to tell me not to care; that she wasn't cheating on me because it was for money. That it was her job and not something she wanted to do.

“I had a kid to take care of and I couldn't very well do that on my own, you know. That was the first time that I hit her in anger, and I vowed never to do it again. But then I'd come home from work to find that Joshua would be crying and hungry in his crib. She'd be passed out after turning a couple of tricks and buying some drugs. My son actually has a disorder because she did drugs while pregnant with him – only I didn't know that at the time. Not that it matters to me. I love him no matter what, but it still breaks my heart to think about.”

Jerry paused to sigh in aggravation, and he looked close to tears as well. “But I tried to tell myself that she wasn't hurting our son. Neglecting him a bit, sure. It was still better than not having a mom home to take care of him. Then I realized that he had a lot of little bruises on him. I just thought that he was a clumsy kid. That he fell down a lot and things like that. Until the day I came home early – _not_ having worked overtime as usual – and saw her grabbing him by the arms, digging her fingers in until they bruised, and _shaking_ him while screaming.

“I fucking punched her in the face for that!” Jerry roared in a whisper because that wasn't exactly the sort of information one blurted out in public – in a park where kids were playing. “Then I started saving up all the money I could. I had to wait until I had enough to take care of us for a while. It took months, during which time, I'd come home to find more and more bruises, which made me smack her around and yell at her to stop abusing our son. But she had no problems twisting it all around to make it sound like I was the abusive asshole hitting them both while she was just a victim.”

“I can only imagine,” Harry murmured in sympathy.

“So when I had enough money, I just took him and ran,” Jerry finished up the explanation.

Harry ran his hand through his hair and stared at the sky, not knowing what to do.

Draco decided that it was time for him to sit next to Harry and scrutinize Jerry. “Alright, you've told us one story and Leah told us another. Both stories are horrible, and you're right in that most people would probably believe her over you, but here's what I want to know... How do we _know_ you really are telling the truth. How do we know that you aren't just conning us with a story so that you can take off with your son again?”

Jerry gestured to the toy that Harry was still holding – out of Joshua's sight. “She beat him over the head with that a few times when he wouldn't shut up or go to sleep for her. That's why he's scared of it. But the _real_ proof is inside it. She hides the drugs she deals inside it – although she probably took them out before she gave it to you.”

Harry bit his lip and slowly shook his head. “No... we didn't give her time to do anything like that.” He opened the toy, pulled out the hard, white plastic battery holder, and shook it. Sure enough, it sounded like something other than batteries was inside. Opening it, he found baggies of various drugs. “Son of a!”

“Quite,” Draco agreed with a murderous expression.

“What are we supposed to do now?!” Harry wailed in a near whisper so that he didn't alarm the other kids and their parents.

Draco shrugged. “Walk away. Stay a few days in the middle of nowhere and claim you couldn't find them.”

“But they saw –!” Harry's protest was cut short.

“It doesn't matter what they saw. They can't _prove_ that anything you did actually found these two,” Draco insisted.

Harry bit his lip in thought. “That's true...”

“Come on. Let's walk away and find something to do to take your mind off this,” Draco suggested getting to his feet and offering Harry a hand up.

“Like what?” Harry asked as he let Draco help him to his feet.

“I don't know, let's find out,” Draco said. They walked away from Jerry and Joshua, looking back a couple of times to see the dad playing with his son again.

When they had a chance, they flew back into downtown Saskatoon and landed in a private alley to walk around and see what there was to do. To their surprise, an owl landed on Harry's shoulder – making Adira roar jealously and try to blow fire on the owl before Draco turned away and soothed her ire by petting her (currently invisible) back. Harry quickly accepted the note and paid the owl, which helped curiously onlookers decide that he had probably attracted the bird by carrying food that the owl could smell.

 _Dear Mr. Potter, your room has been arranged should you need it, hoping you are well, Cordelia Persham, secretary to the Minister for Magic._ The back of the note had an address written on it.

“The Ramada,” Harry murmured.

“We may as well go check in before doing anything else,” Draco murmured with a shrug.

“Good point,” Harry agreed. They had to ask for directions, but were soon being told to eat lunch in the hotel restaurant – or sports bar if they preferred – to wait until the official check in time of 2pm. Since they were getting hungry anyway, they decided to comply by choosing the restaurant – Butler's.

An hour later, they were done eating and officially checked in. To a one bed room. They exchanged puzzled glances. Harry picked up the note on the bed.

_Dear Mr. Potter, I'm sorry if the Americans have spoilt you, but if you are going to be staying someplace on the Ministry Galleon – without advance permission and *not* on an official Ministry job, then you'll just have to make do with the least expensive accommodations. Sincerely, Cordelia Persham, secretary to the Minister for Magic._

“Well... I suppose that it's only for the night,” Harry said, trying to make the best of things.

“And I could always check into my own room if necessary,” Draco added.

“True,” Harry admitted.

Then Draco surprised him by grinning. “In any case, we are literally _right next_ to a golf place! You have absolutely no excuse not to try it now!”

Smiling just a little fondly, Harry agreed that it was not only Draco's turn to pick their activity, but that golf was bound to be better than shopping. So, they went to the dome and learned everything there was for a beginner to know. To Harry's surprise, he had fun! So did Draco. This was definitely something they could do together in the future when they had down time.

Surprisingly, hunger eventually prompted them to quit for the night. That and the dome closed at 6pm, so they were about to be kicked out anyway. They headed back to Butler's for dinner.

Since the food wasn't particularly gourmet, Draco ordered the Chicken Florentine, and Harry ordered the Lemon-Dill Salmon. Even the best wine was terribly cheap in Draco's opinion, so they opted for water, tea, and cocktails instead. Not that the cocktails were anything to write home about. They were rather mediocre compared to the super spendy ones in the Pink Octopus, but they didn't complain. At least not to the staff. Draco was an incorrigible snob who kept up a running list of complaints until Harry threatened to strangle him in front of everyone.

Back in their room a while later, Draco propped all the pillows so that he could sit on the bed and watch a movie. Harry sat on the only chair in the room, off to the side of the bed. He flipped through the stations until he found the guide channel.

“There's a movie called Payback starting in less than 10 minutes,” Draco pointed out.

“Alright,” Harry murmured in agreement, turning to the correct channel.

“What is it with muggles and violence?” Draco asked in bafflement near the end of the movie.

“That black haired woman with the gun is pretty though, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. I do have a fondness for black hair,” Draco admitted.

“Is that why you dated Parkinson?” Harry wondered.

“Partially,” Draco said with a shrug. “I think most of it was just that she was my only option at the time.”

“Sometimes I think I had too many options, and none of them really serious,” Harry informed him. “I once had a girl try to slip me a love potion in some chocolates. Well, it was once that I _know_ of. Probably a lot more than once that I never realized because I wasn't into eating chocolate I didn't buy myself.”

“Prudent,” Draco stated.

At the end of the movie, Harry stripped down to his pants. “Budge over because I'm tired and I want to go to sleep.”

“Fine,” Draco replied with a sigh. He actually slipped out of bed to strip down to his pants while Harry rearranged the bedding.

“I only want the sheet because it's too hot for a blanket, but not quite hot enough for us to turn the air conditioning on,” Harry explained. “So you can have the blanket all to yourself.”

“Alright,” Draco agreed indifferently.

Harry practically created a cocoon out of the sheet, turning to face away from Draco. Draco turned all the lights out and crawled back into bed. He also turned onto his side facing away from Harry. At first, he had the blanket covering his entire body, but it really was just a bit too warm to need a blanket, so he shifted it so that his back was uncovered and he was snuggling up to it in the front.

Harry suppressed a groan as he wondered how in the bloody hell he was ever going to sleep when there was someone so gorgeous right next to him. It was true that he'd only ever had one experience with a man, but the more time he spent with Draco, the more he found the infuriating git attractive. And not quite as infuriating. Sighing in frustration, he tossed onto his other side in an attempt to get comfortable.

He immediately had to hold his breath and wait for a reasonable amount of time to roll _back_ over without raising suspicion, since he hadn't realized that he was erect until the tip of it had bumped into Draco... Based on the general location of Harry's erection, he was pretty sure that had to be Draco's bum. Lower back at the very least.

Before Harry devolved into full on panic, he decided to simply pull his hips back. That way, he'd no longer be poking Draco anywhere. Just after he did that, he decided that he'd wait just two more minutes before turning onto his other side again and not moving no matter what for the rest of the night. He suspected that he'd not get a wink of sleep, but hopefully, Draco wouldn't complain about him being restless.

Suddenly, Draco turned onto his other side and gave Harry a kiss even as his hand confirmed that Harry actually had poked him. Harry couldn't help but moan in longing. He hesitated to return the kiss, not entirely sure if Draco was serious or just winding him up before telling him to stop being a pervert.

It took a bit of pulling, but Draco managed to free Harry from the cocoon, which he followed up by slipping his hand into Harry's pants and deepening the kiss. Harry used a hand to hold Draco's head still for a moment before gently pushing him away.

“Are you serious?” Harry asked.

“By serious, do you mean about shagging you tonight, or do you mean _serious_?” Draco wondered.

“The first one,” Harry clarified. “Since I'm half certain you're just going to make me embarrass myself somehow.”

“Oh Potter, if I was going to do that, I'd have just grabbed your shaft and squeezed it cruelly as I taunted you and called you names,” Draco corrected. “Which means that yes, I am serious about shagging you tonight.”

“But why?” Harry questioned almost desperately.

“I'm horny, you seem to be horny, and there's no one else here to ask, so the real question is _why not_?” Draco countered.

Harry smiled and kissed Draco. “Why not indeed. Alright Malfoy, we'll shag, but if you feel weird about it in the morning, please don't snarl at me.”

“I think I can promise that,” Draco murmured before kissing Harry again.

Draco, knowing exactly what he wanted, decided that it would only be prudent for him to make Harry feel so good that he didn't protest when Draco moved on to the main event. With that in mind, he shifted so that he could lick and suck on the shaft that turned out to be just a little shorter than Draco's but also a little thicker with a puffy head. This seemed perfect to Draco at the moment.

Harry groaned and prayed that this wouldn't turn out to be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. After all, he and Draco had a long history of not getting along and only a week or so of getting along. Mostly.

Just when Harry thought the end of the blowjob was imminent, he clenched his buttocks and pushed his shaft just a bit farther into Draco's mouth. Draco pulled off with a wet popping noise and squeezed the base of Harry's shaft. As Harry whinged in disappointment, Draco repositioned them so that he had access to prepare that tight pucker for entry.

Harry got very quiet as he focused on what Draco was doing. To be honest, it felt weird to have a finger in his bum. But then, Draco found something that sent a jolt of pleasure through Harry that made him inhale a startled gasp.

Smirking, Draco continued to rub that spot even as he gently pushed another finger inside him and stretched the muscles open. If he wasn't dead certain Harry would protest, he'd grab his wand and cast spells that would let him jump straight to the end. However, perhaps astonishingly, he was having more fun just playing with Harry than he could recall having with anyone else for a long time.

Harry started making these soft mewling noises that drove Draco wild. When Draco nearly climaxed from the sight of Harry flushed with passion and nearly begging, he couldn't hold back any longer. He crawled up Harry's body until they were in range to kiss again as Draco lined himself up.

Harry inhaled in sudden realization – he hadn't been thinking about which one of them would actually shag the other. All he'd really thought about was how good it felt. So now that Draco was pushing into him – careful not to hurt him – Harry decided that he was curious enough about how it felt to simply close his eyes and hold his breath until it either felt good, or too bad to endure. He wasn't sure which it'd be, only that it was rather uncomfortable at the moment.

Draco chuckled very softly. “Well, now I can assume that when you had that threesome with Dwayne and Janice, you didn't do any sort of bottoming. Relax Potter. Breathe. Open up a little more.”

Still not quite ready to breathe, Harry nodded and widened the gap between his legs. This seemed to be the magic touch because suddenly, Draco slid in a bit more and there was no discomfort other than a little burn from the sudden stretching. Draco rocked his hips, stimulating Harry's prostate as he worked his way in ever deeper.

This made Harry gasp from the unexpected pleasure and cling to Draco. He demanded heavy kisses, letting Draco set the pace. Now that the initial awkwardness was over, Draco pulled Harry's legs over his hips and made sure that Harry's shaft – which was trapped between them – received plenty of stimulation with each thrust.

Harry prayed for the stamina to last all night, but it really didn't take long for the vigorous pounding of his prostate to combine with the stimulation to his shaft to push him over the edge. He dug his fingers into Draco's back and bit that smooth white shoulder to muffle a squeal that announced a rather fantastic orgasm.

Draco wasn't done yet, but he knew how sensitive Harry would be, so he shifted their position so that he was on his knees and Harry's legs were over his shoulders. This eliminated all stimulation to Harry's shaft, but left him plenty of room to play with it when he recovered. Harry sort of hummed and purred as he enjoyed the high from his orgasm, he didn't even mind the fact that Draco was still pounding into him rather opportunistically.

By the time Draco was done, Harry had not only had a second orgasm, but he now knew exactly why all of Draco's lovers – that Harry had talked to – said he was good in bed. He bloody was! Harry felt one insane second of jealousy as he wondered who Draco had practiced with to learn this phenomenal skill. Harry was pretty good with women (having nearly more practice lately than most of his past put together), but he would have been disappointing if he had been expected to make it good for Draco. Even with Dwayne, there had been quick prep spells and lots of things to distract Harry from finishing too soon. That wouldn't have been the case here.

“Wow...” he whispered as he drifted off.

Draco smirked, already half asleep himself.

In the morning, Harry woke to find something hard poking him in the abdomen. He was apparently cuddling with Draco and Draco – despite being still asleep – was ready for another round. Harry was about halfway there, so he ignored his shaft as he took hold of the longer thinner one. His goal was to give Draco an orgasm to thank him for the two that Harry'd had the night before.

Draco moaned and made happy little noises in his sleep. His hips rocked into Harry's hand. This made Harry chuckle in delight and kiss Draco.

“This is the perfect way to wake up,” Draco murmured, his eyes still closed.

Harry chuckled. “Better than Georgia and Jolie playing tag?”

“If not better then at the very least damn close,” Draco drawled. “Although, I don't have to hide my magic from you so...” he grabbed his wand from under his pillow and cast a breath freshening charm on Harry, and then himself. “There! Now it's _definitely_ better!”

Amused, Harry divided his attention in half with half being on Draco's shaft and the other being on their snogging. It ended up being a rather lazy morning that lasted until their stomachs just couldn't be patient any longer. That said, Draco was now laying on Harry's back and didn't know if he'd have the energy to move any time soon.

Harry thought _fuck it_ and waved his hand at the phone to summon it from the bedside table. “You're still serving breakfast, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Brilliant! We'd like two plates of breakfast – bacon, eggs, sausage, and whatever else you have to go with it. Plus juice and tea.”

“We'll have that there as soon as possible.”

“Good,” Harry stated as he hung up the phone. He lay on his stomach cuddling with the pillow that smelled like Draco while Draco lay on him like he was a bed. Harry had to wonder if that was even comfortable, but he wasn't about to complain.

When their food arrived, Harry laughed. “Looks like you have to move now. I can't exactly get up with you laying on me.”

Groaning but too hungry to _not_ move, Draco slipped out of bed, magicked a bath robe on, and answered the door. As they ate – sitting in bed because there wasn't exactly a better place – they talked about what they should do that day.

“I'll have to call and see if the charges have officially been dropped against Kyle, but if they have, then I can call Robert and send him the file so that they have that if it ever becomes an issue again,” Harry murmured.

“I'm still surprised that you let Brad Smith claim that the necklace had simply been lost, and now that it was found again, no harm done,” Draco pointed out. “I would have thought that you'd insist on seeing to it that the police arrested Bill Morrissey.”

Harry shrugged. “That's not up to me. My job wasn't to punish the culprit, it was simply to prove Kyle didn't do it. Thus, if Mr. Smith feels that his friend deserves another chance, there's nothing I can do about it.”

“That's more Slytherin than Gryffindor,” Draco mused.

Harry shrugged. “The hat nearly Sorted me into Slytherin, but I told it not to. Every once in a while, I see why I might have done well in Slytherin.”

“Really???” Draco asked in fascination. “I had no idea. Our lives could have gone so differently if you had been.”

“I've thought about that too, but ultimately, I think I made the right choice,” Harry stated.

Draco looked away and grumbled. “Yeah, I can't see you as anything other than a bleeding heart Gryffindor.”

“Just as I can't see you as anything other than a witty and snarky Slytherin,” Harry murmured, nearly spilling his plate as he nuzzled Draco's neck. Rather abruptly, he set his plate aside and summoned a paper out of his pouch.

“Er...” Draco droned because it had seemed like they might be headed in the direction of another session there for a moment, and then nothing.

Not intentionally ignoring Draco, Harry summoned the phone again and dialed the number on the paper. “Jolie? Morning, it's Harry. Yeah, I'm still looking, but I think I'm making progress. I just, well, I noticed something alarming. That toy that Leah gave me for Joshua... It's full of drugs. Yeah, I was looking at it to see if I could fix it for Joshua, but then I found several baggies in it. I was just wondering if you could go visit her today and – oh I don't know – tell her that you're taking her shopping or something. But take her to one of those places where addicts can get treatment – you have those in America, right? … Yeah, no, I'm not saying that the drugs are hers, just that if you bring her in and they *are,* you can get her help.”

Harry listened as Jolie agonized over the possibility before coming to a sort of acceptance that it was probably likely that her friends was an addict. He didn't say anything but felt that Jolie needed to have this fact proven before she'd even be open to hearing that Jerry Collins wasn't the scumbag in this equation after all. He only felt a little guilty, but since Jolie had hired him to make sure the boy was safe, he wasn't actually violating the terms of his job.

After eating, Draco gave Harry a choice between golf or shopping. Harry chose golf.

About halfway through their day, Harry received an owl – which made the muggles in the Dome look at him curiously. It turned out to be from the Canadian Minister for Magic.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and enjoying this fine country. Since you are here anyway, would you please consider witnessing the signing of an important treaty of sorts between the Magical Ministry and the non Magical one? There shouldn't be any sort of problem or need for you to provide security or assistance, but it would be incredibly fortunate for you to be on hand to witness the event and even sign as a witness. I'll pay you handsomely if you should happen to agree._

_Thank you so much, and please enjoy your stay in our country –_

Harry frankly grew bored with the letter before he even finished reading it, so he shoved it in his pocket for later. “It seems we have what sounds like it'll be a quick and easy job in a few days.”

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head. “They just come to you like you have a job seeking magnet on your arse.”

Harry laughed. “You're not wrong.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got to the Drarry :-D


	13. In Which Draco is Ordered to Come Home for His Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's mother is rather upset that he's been away from home for nearly an entire year, and orders him to come home or face dire consequences.

 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!” The smoking red envelope roared, tearing Draco and Harry from their slumber.

“Mum?” He questioned groggily.

“It's been nearly a year since you left to go gallivanting around the world! I don't care if there's a man dangling precariously over a volcano and you're the only wizard in the world who knows a summoning charm, _you will_ return home in time for your birthday, or _I will_ hunt you down and _drag_ you home! Am I understood?”

Draco gulped and reflexively replied: “Yes ma'am,” before remembering that she couldn't hear him through the howler.

Harry snickered. “Sounds like she won't take no for an answer.” He ruffled Draco's sleep tousled hair and gave him a kiss. “We should probably go back to Britain and work from home until after my birthday, at the very least.”

Draco pouted becomingly. “But I'm really enjoying playing bodyguard to the wealthy muggles as they sail their yachts around the world.”

Harry kissed him again. “ _That's_ because you keep winning massive amounts of money from them in poker games.”

“Well yes, but it's also rather fun to Disillusion ourselves and sneak up on pirates before they even have a chance to board the Yachts. A few minutes of scare tactics and prodigious use of a stunning spell and we actually _earn_ a rather large amount of money!” Draco reminded him.

“Go on, firecall your mother before she decides that the Howler didn't reach you and sends another. Or worse, tries to firecall _us_ while we're still naked with our bits dangling in the breeze,” Harry ordered, pushing Draco out of bed.

“Alright, Potter, no need to get pushy,” Draco grumbled. He threw a polo shirt on to make it look like he was fully dressed, then he tossed some floo powder on the tray of the portable floo and called out: “Malfoy Manor, sun room!”

Sure enough, his mother was reading an issue of Nude Quidditch Practice Monthly as she waited for her son to respond to the Howler. She looked up to see him in the fire and smiled – which was a bit cold to begin with, but then warmed up as she just couldn't stay mad at him for long.

“Draco, darling! It's about time you firecalled me! I'm quite serious about your birthday. You'll be turning 21 and I'd quite like to throw a proper party for you.”

“Good morning, mum. _So_ happy you felt the need to tear me from my sleep in a way that practically murdered me,” Draco snarked. He could hear Harry snickering in the background but ignored him.

“Promise me that you are coming home or I'll do so _every_ morning until you do,” Narcissa vowed with a unapologetic grin.

Draco sighed heavily. “Alright, mum. I promise. This particular job ends in two days. I'll see to it that we have a Portkey waiting to take us home the moment we step onto dry land.”

“Good. See that you do,” Narcissa said in a tone that was a subtle warning of dire consequences should he forget or end up taking another job.

“Love you, mum,” Draco reminded her before pulling his head out of the fire. He looked up to find Harry leering at him. “What?”

“Nothing. I'm just appreciating the view,” Harry murmured, reminding Draco that he was not wearing any bottoms.

“You could always get on your knees and appreciate the view a little more closely,” Draco suggested with a smirk.

“Love to!” Harry proclaimed, dropping to his knees before Draco.

Suddenly, the alarms on the ship started blaring.

“Bloody pirates!” Draco grumbled, casting dressing spells on both of them so that they could go do their job. It then occurred to him that it was a damn good thing that they'd cast silencing charms on their stateroom – otherwise, the whole ship would have heard his Howler.

With a quick kiss, Harry and Draco Disillusioned themselves and mounted Harry's broom so that they could fly around and deter the money hungry maritime thieves.

 

***

 

“Harry!” Hermione cried out in delight. “We haven't seen you in forever!”

Harry smiled as he passed out hugs. “I just arrived home and no one was there. Shevvie must've taken Rhys out to the park or something. So I said to myself: Harry, it's Sunday, that means it's time to get your butt over to the Burrow for lunch.”

“Smart decision!” Molly praised, hugging him so tightly he almost couldn't breathe.

“I have even better news,” Harry informed her, returning the hug.

“What's that?” Everyone wanted to know.

“We've decided to stay in Britain until my birthday, at the very least,” Harry announced.

“Good!” Ron grunted as he took his turn hugging Harry. “Siobhan says that there's a _lot_ of work that's built up in your absence. Lots of missing things for you to find and mysteries for you to solve.”

“Although I _have_ been taking on all the things that sound like curses,” Bill said, giving Harry a quick hug. “Which has been a nice bit of extra income.”

“Eet iz a pleasure seeing you again, 'Arry,” Fleur greeted, kissing him on both cheeks, which he returned. “You are looking well, non?”

Harry shrugged. “We got sick of the cold in Canada and the northern states of the US, so we decided to take on jobs in the Caribbean near the equator, which means that we've been getting rather a lot of sun.”

“And you haven't actually murdered Malfoy and just pretended to lug his arse around the world on jobs?” George asked with a smirk as he claimed a hug from Harry.

Harry laughed. “No! He's actually been less of a prat in general and surprisingly helpful on the whole. And I don't have to worry about running out of muggle money to pay for things like hotels and meals – when they're not just being paid for outright by MACUSA – because he _always_ wins enormous amounts in poker games. The downside is that he forces me to go shopping and buy clothes he feels have a certain quality to them.”

“Thus the fancy shmancy polo shirt you're wearing,” Ron pointed out with a laugh.

“Nice hair,” Ginny murmured as she accepted her hug and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks,” Harry said, returning her kiss.

“I think we should talk later,” she whispered in his ear.

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed with a fond smile.

 

***

 

“Draco! I was beginning to think I'd have to send out another Howler,” Narcissa greeted, rushing to hug her son.

“I promised I'd be here,” Draco reminded her.

“You also said you were coming home practically every other day,” Pansy pointed out. “But you didn't, so frankly, we were all taking bets on whether or not you actually would.”

Draco rolled his eyes at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he summoned a few packages out of his watch. “Here are the latest souvenirs.” Pansy and his mother got some from nearly everywhere he went, but the rest only got some as he found things he thought they'd like. Also, since they'd really piled up after the first month, he'd taken to just owling them home.

Adira had been flying around the parlor, but seeing Draco kiss Pansy invoked her irrational jealousy. She screeched, swooped, and blew fire, surprising Draco. He stepped between his dragon and his best friend.

“Adira! What's the matter with you?! Go outside and hunt because you're obviously hungry,” he ordered, spelling the nearby glass doors open and pointing out them.

Adira gave him a look that suggested he'd just beat her with a shoe. She flew around his head, blowing out fire in her displeasure, but he didn't flinch because he knew she'd aim it away from him just enough that it'd get close but not burn him. Whipping him with her tail, she took off out the door. No matter how miffed she currently was, she actually was hungry and needed to hunt.

“Sorry about that, I have no idea why she's upset,” Draco apologized. “She _never_ acts like that, not even when I have guests. She just curls up in a chair and takes a nap.”

“Guests, eh?” Blaise inquired with a knowing smirk.

“Oh stop,” Draco ordered, nudging him playfully.

“How many _guests_ have you had?” Blaise wondered.

Draco rolled his eyes. “What are you? Twelve? Besides, I lost all count at some point.”

“Really, damn! That probably means you've beat my count,” Blaise lamented.

“Definitely twelve,” Draco confirmed in amusement.

“That certainly explains why you haven't come home sooner,” Narcissa said in acceptance tinted with a hint of disapproval. “You've been lost in youthful indiscretions.”

“Perhaps, but I've _also_ been doing a rather interesting job. Most recently, we've been sailing around on Yachts protecting wealthy muggles from greedy pirates. Not _only_ does it pay well, but it's a bit like a never ending party,” Draco explained.

“Perhaps it's time for the party to stop and you to start thinking about your future,” Lucius drawled, breaking down and giving his son a hug.

Draco was a little surprised since his parents almost never showed him affection in front of others.

“It also explains why you look so tan,” Pansy remarked with a mild but appreciative leer. “You look like someone blew literal gold dust on your skin – and your hair is whiter than ever. I can see why you had so many _guests_.”

“Thanks. I feel better than I ever have in my life, and I guess it shows,” Draco murmured, still busy greeting the rest of his friends.

Lucius gave him a look that made it clear he'd noticed that Draco had basically ignored his suggestion. Draco chuckled.

“Fine, I'm not looking to think about my future just yet. I'm happy doing what I'm doing, and I don't want to stop any time soon,” Draco explained.

“So... no marriage and babies in your future?” Theo asked curiously.

“Not yet, no,” Draco stated.

“But!” Narcissa protested in alarm. “But now's the time to do it! If you wait until you're older, you won't have the energy you have now to keep up with babies and toddlers. And if it's about needing a career to keep you happy, you can find something that will allow you to come home each night to be with your wife and children. You can have it all!”

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. “Look, I have something important to me that I don't want to give up.”

“This partying you talked about?” His parents asked in unison.

“No,” Draco replied evasively, shaking his head.

“The jobs that take you all over the world?” Lucius pressed in concern.

“Well, yes,” Draco admitted, still sounding a little evasive.

“But your mother already said that you can do the same thing, or something similar – right here at home,” Lucius pointed out.

“And that's our plan for the next couple of months,” Draco explained.

“Excellent! Then you'll be home and can think about finding a bride,” Narcissa cheered.

“Oh for the love of Salazar and Merlin!” Millie blurted out as she and the rest of the Slytherins in Draco's year – plus Astoria – rolled their eyes and shook their heads. Well, all of them except Greg, who looked confused (as usual). “He doesn't want to get married yet because he doesn't want to give up Potter!”

“Er...” Draco droned a bit guiltily, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck.

“WHAT???” Lucius blurted out in shock.

Narcissa bit her lip and tilted her head to the side in a silent admission that she'd wondered about that.

“But!” Lucius didn't quite know which protest to start with. “He's the _Potter brat_!!!”

Draco chuckled. He was sort of impressed that: _He's a man_ wasn't the first objection.

“He's a Gryffindor, and he's mouthy and arrogant!”

“Part of that sentence could be used to describe Draco,” Pansy pointed out in amusement.

“Oi!” Draco protested, nudging her fondly.

“But we notice that you didn't deny it,” Daphne and Astoria pointed out helpfully, Astoria's arm around Daphne's waist and Daphne's arm around Astoria's shoulder.

Draco exhaled a soft chuckle. “Well, there's not really much to confirm or deny. We work together, and some of the time, we have to share small rooms with small beds. Things happen. But it's not any sort of official relationship. We both still invite other guests to our rooms when we feel like it – and before you bunch of slags ask: _No,_ we don't do any of the things you're now picturing.”

Pansy lightly pushed on his nose with her finger. “ _But_ he _is_ the thing you don't want to give up, _right_?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed in a soft voice.

She hugged him and kissed his cheek again.

“Then why didn't you invite him to your party?” Greg asked in confusion.

Draco honestly had to wonder how Greg had parsed even that much. He smiled. “As I said, we're not in a relationship, thus it would have been weird to invite him and subject him to intense scrutiny from all you nosy busybodies. Besides, he's visiting his family.”

“Oh...” Greg murmured, still not quite understanding why Draco hadn't at least invited him.

The fire flared just then, startling them all because everyone that would come to a party for Draco was already there. Rather than anyone come through, Harry's head appeared in the fire. This surprised all of them since – heckling Draco about possible relationships aside – none of them had expected to see Harry buggering Potter for real.

“Hey Malfoy, sorry to bother you at your birthday party, but it occurred to me that I forgot to tell you what I'm giving you for your birthday,” Harry said, basically ignoring everyone else because greeting them all properly and making idle chitchat could take hours.

“Oh?” Draco asked with interest. “And what's that?”

“Well, I did some research and I found out that there are between 20 and 25 golf courses in Wiltshire. I know how much you love golf, so I thought we'd try them all,” Harry informed him.

Draco couldn't help it; his eyes lit up and he exhaled reverently: “ _Wow_ ... Huh... I hadn't even thought that there might be courses _here.”_

“I marked them all on a map, so when you're ready, just insta-owl me and I'll floo or Apparate over and we can fly to them on our brooms. You'll be able to fly your own this time,” Harry pointed out with a chuckle.

“Thanks for reminding me, I'll have to put my broom in my carryall so that I don't forget to bring it with if we go anywhere for a job,” Draco murmured, trying to remember where he'd actually put it.

Harry decided it was the perfect time to wind him up. “That said, since _I_ have a Firebolt, it doesn't matter what you have, you're going to be slower than me.”

“Oi! We'll just see about that, Potter! I am dead certain that I can outfly you in every way!”

Harry grinned. “We'll see about that! But anyway, I have to go. Ginny is insistent that we talk about something, so I'll see you whenever you insta-owl me.”

“Later,” Draco dismissed with a short wave.

“What's an insta-owl? Pansy asked, all of the Slytherins looking at Draco as if he'd grown a second head – because he was at least half _flirting_ with Potter.

“What's golf?” Blaise wondered, echoed by Theo and Lucius.

“Golf is a game played by muggles in which they used clubs to putt a ball into a hole in as few strokes as possible. I'll show you in a minute,” Draco explained, summoning a golf ball and a set of clubs out of his carryall. He set them aside for the moment and summoned his insta-owl paper, which he held up for Pansy to see. “This is an insta-owl. It's a piece of parchment with complicated charms on it so that when I write on it – for example: Chad, Adira's being rather cranky today, any idea why?” He used his finger to write this on the paper as he talked, then held it up to show Pansy. “The message will disappear and go to him. It's still rather early in New York, so he probably won't get back to me –”

He was cut short when the paper started to hoot rather insistently at him. He turned it so that he could read the response. Out loud because he was trying to demonstrate the paper to Pansy.

“Damnit man! Do you have any idea what time it is here?! You're lucky I was stumbling my way to the bathroom. Anyway, yes, I have a good idea why Adira's being cranky. It's the beginning of her mating cycle, and while I'm _not_ saying that she wants you to mate with her, I am saying that she probably considers you _hers._ Thus, if you show affection to anyone before her cycle is over, she'll probably try to assert her territory.”

Draco dropped his head into his hand and shook his head. “Just my bloody luck!”

Adira came flying back into the room just then, landed on Draco's shoulder, and curled her body around the back of his neck. She chittered happily as she offered him the mouse she'd just caught. He looked less than thrilled.

“No thank you, please go eat that outside,” Draco told her.

She responded by trying to push the still very much alive mouse in his mouth. He turned his head away and put a hand in front of her face. “Stop that, I don't like mice.”

Clearly aggravated by his refusal, she blew out a stream of fire that burnt the mouse to a crisp before she dropped it on the floor and snarled at him. He pushed on her nose with a finger. “Behave.” He quickly had to move his finger before she could bite it off. “Or I'll conjure a cage and lock you in it for the rest of the day.”

Roaring in outrage, Adira whipped her tail at the back of his head again before flying back outside. Draco vanished the burnt mouse, shaking his head again. “I _love_ having a pet dragon, but sometimes, she's a little _too_ much like a cat for my taste.”

Exhaling a sigh, he levitated a thick crystal juice glass that had a squarish bottom onto the floor on its side. The squarishness of the bottom of the glass made it so that it didn't roll around. It was placed on the opposite side of the room and Draco set a golf ball at his feet.

“The object of golf is to use a club –” He selected a nine iron, which was a club designed for shorter distances. “To putt the ball into the hole in as few tries as possible. For example, most people could probably hit the ball into that glass from here in four strokes or less, which would make this a par four hole. If you are playing a game on a 9 or an 18 hole course, then all your strokes are kept track of and the person with the smaller score at the end wins the game.”

He carefully lined up his shot and struck the ball so that it went flying in a beautiful arc, landing just in front of the glass and rolling the little bit needed to make a hole in one. He smirked smugly. “It's actually a lot harder than I just made it look.”

He handed his club to Theo, who had a hand out expectantly. “It can't be _that_ hard if muggles can do it.”

“You'd be surprised,” Draco warned him.

The next few hours were spent with everyone trying to master the game because none of them could stand the idea that muggles were better than them at anything. Not that Draco was complaining since he loved the game and it meant a lot to him that his loved ones were willing to give it a try. The _real_ surprise was that _Greg_ was a natural at the game, getting the least strokes in general and holes in one rather often.

At one point, Draco sat in a plush arm chair watching them all practice, stroking Adira on the back and feeling surprisingly content. This was probably his best birthday so far.

 

***

 

_Potter, since my parents and friends heard you say that you were taking me golfing for my birthday, I had to give them all lessons yesterday and they insist on coming with us to at least the first one or two courses. Thus, now that we've both hopefully had a good night's sleep, I'd like to start today. Nowish – unless you still need to eat breakfast. Apparate over when you're ready, I've keyed you into our wards._

Harry appeared next to Draco about two minutes later. “You have good timing. You know how Zoë bit my ankle yesterday when we first arrived and I had to have you heal me? Well, she's apparently still mad at me for being gone so long and was attacking my ankle again. I was glad to have an excuse to leave. Hopefully Rhys and Shevvie will calm her down by the time I get back tonight.”

“Good thing she's a little dog,” Draco remarked with a snort of amusement. “I'm not sure I could have healed you if she was a mastiff and had mauled you in her ire.”

“Shevvie says happy birthday – she can't remember if she said it yesterday before you came here and I went to the Burrow,” Harry added.

“She did, but tell her thanks when you get a chance,” Draco murmured. “I still can't get over how big Rhys got in the year we were gone.”

“I know! He was like a whole other kid! Oh! Did you get an insta-owl from Elliot?” Harry asked.

“No,” Draco replied with a shake of his head.

“He wrote this morning to say that Rob and Michael are getting married! Well, sort of. It's illegal, so, they're having a wedding-like ceremony and we should expect invitations by owl in a couple of weeks,” Harry informed him with a smile.

“That means we'll have to go shopping for wedding presents,” Draco pointed out with a devilish grin.

Harry exhaled in frustration and dropped his head into his hand. “More bloody shopping! I swear you've dragged me to more malls in the last year than I'd ever even gone to _a mall_ in my entire life prior to that!”

“And you _are not_ allowed to pick out your own clothing that day because I _know_ you'll just throw on the first thing you find in your carryall,” Draco said with narrow eyes and a light growl. “And since I'll be dragging you shopping anyway, you may as well buy something new to wear at their wedding.”

“Yeah yeah,” Harry grumbled. “More importantly, are we just going to stand here chatting all day, or are we going golfing? Good morning Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Please Harry, I told you to call me Narcissa. And good morning. I trust you slept well?”

“Actually I had a terrible night! I used to need Zoë's snoring to stop me from having nightmares, but I guess I got used to not having her on my pillow, so she kept me awake. And then when I poked her to get her to stop, she'd wake up, remember that she was mad at me, and bite me,” Harry explained more than was strictly necessary.

Adira came in from a morning hunt to find Harry and screeched in delight as she flew over and licked his face with her feather soft, snake-like tongue. He chuckled and stroked her head. “I missed you too, Adira.”

She landed on Draco's shoulder and turned circles giddily. “Yes, Potter's here. Calm down. Salazar! You'd think you hadn't seen him in much longer than a night!”

Harry laughed. “I sincerely _do not_ want to see what she'd do if she didn't see me for a year. Zoë bit me but Adira breathes fire! I very much want to keep my skin, thanks ever so.”

Happy that her two people were in the same room again, Adira settled herself and curled around Draco's neck, licking Harry's hand when he reached out and petted her head. Draco pointed at a plush rug the size of two king sized beds put together.

“I decided that it really wasn't prudent to have nearly a dozen people flying brooms through the muggle countryside – and hiring a limo for the day probably wouldn't have been roomy enough either. So, I charmed our old flying carpet to be invisible from the underside. Thus, any muggles looking up won't see a thing, but we'll all be able to look down and enjoy the scenery,” Draco explained.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed with a grin. “I hadn't given any thought to that.”

“That's why I'm smarter than you, Potter,” Draco reminded him.

Harry snorted in amusement and pulled a map out of his back pocket. “Here, since you'll be... driving? Flying?”

Draco took the map and looked it over, Harry pointing to a spot.

“I was thinking that we'd start with this one, since it's closest to your house. And then this one is the next closest. We probably won't be able to play more than two or three courses today, but since we decided to stay here until my birthday at the very least, we should have plenty of time to get through them all.”

“Speaking of, Potter, I decided on what I'm getting you for your birthday, but don't bother asking, because I'm _not_ telling. I want it to be a surprise,” Draco said snootily as he gestured an order for all his friends to get on the carpet and sit down. 

“Darling, do shut up and let the rest of us get a word in edgewise,” Pansy commanded as she sat on the carpet. “You've both been utterly _rude_ and omitted the usual pleasantries. Good morning, Potter. I'm not exactly pleased to see you again, but I am looking forward to this outing, so I hope that we can attempt to get along for Draco's sake.”

“Are you insane?!” Harry blurted out incredulously. “I'm the sole Gryffindor in a group of Slytherins! I'm _not_ going to say or do anything to provoke a hex battle! However, just know that if we do end up trying to murder each other with our wands, please try to remember that I excel at dueling, so I like my chances.”

Draco laughed. “Plus we've been practicing on pirates all over the Caribbean for the last few months, so your reflexes are on par.”

“Better than par!” Harry scoffed as Draco – now that they were all settled on the carpet – lifted it into the air and directed it to the course on the map. “And good morning everyone. Sorry I didn't say so right away. I've never had the best manners.”

“At least you admit it,” Theo stated with a shrug.

They arrived at Broome Manor Golf Club relatively quickly and played the nine hole course since the majority of the players were new to the game. It ended up being a fairly close game between Draco and Greg. After that, they moved over about a half a mile to the Shrivenham Park Golf Club to try their luck on the rather challenging 18 hole course. Blaise thought it would be easy enough since it all looked like idyllic parkland, but he turned out to be wrong.

On the 17 th  hole – which had a par of five and was tricky in that there was a straight on but highly difficult way to the hole, and a safer but much longer way to the hole – that almost guaranteed one wouldn't make par either way. Harry was in the middle of lining up his shot when a house elf appeared with Kingsley – which he didn't even notice at first.

“Good afternoon, Minister,” Lucius greeted pleasantly, actually having fun with this game his son adored.

“Afternoon, Mr. Malfoy,” Kingsley returned with a slight nod.

“I don't care what it is, the answer is not right now!” Harry exclaimed, not even looking away from the hole he was still trying to figure out the best way to aim at.

Kingsley chuckled. “I had a feeling you might say that, Harry. But I also know you, and I know you won't pass this up.”

Harry actually did look over at Kingsley, even holding up his three iron and pointing it at the man like it was a harmless pointer. “Oh no! Don't you dare say a word. I'm just over par and Malfoy is kicking my arse. Hell! Even _Goyle_ is kicking my arse! So I don't want to hear it!”

“There's a woman in a lot of danger and she needs your help,” Kingsley stated calmly.

Harry sighed in defeat and bashed the ball with his club, sending it fairly straight on toward the hole. It naturally landed in a trap. Sighing again, he turned to face Kingsley, looking expectant.

“Long story short, the daughter of a muggle Russian mob boss was abducted by a group from the Irish mob. Now this _shouldn't_ be our problem in the slightest, but the Irish mob is being helped out by a British wizard or witch, meaning that they're safe behind several wards. Our Ministry is currently arguing with the muggle Ministry _and_ the Ministries from both Russia and Ireland to determine _who_ actually has jurisdiction. It looks like we're going to make a joint effort. So, while we're raiding the witch or wizard's property, I want to hire _you_ to go in and do what you do best – find her and protect her at all costs until the dust settles.”

“Why should we care?” Draco asked bluntly. It was now his turn to line up the shot and he was paying more attention to it than Kingsley.

“Aside from the fact that this is a legitimate job offer, the Russian and Irish mobs are using this as an excuse to fight an all out war. If they do, it'll be _our_ citizens who get caught in the crossfire,” Kingsley pointed out.

Draco swung his club and watched his ball soar very close to Harry's, only his didn't land in the trap. Harrumphing smugly while Harry muttered foul curses under his breath, he turned to sneer at the Minister for Magic.

“If – _if_ mind you – we agree to take the job, there's no way in bloody hell that we're settling for the paltry fees you used to pay Potter before he learned how to run a business.”

“ _Malfoy_!” Harry whinged.

“Shut it, Potter! We agreed that _I'd_ handle all payment negotiations for anyone who could afford to pay more than a thousand American dollars, which is the equivalent of roughly 770 British pounds, which is roughly 150 Galleons. I'm going to set our fee at 300 Galleons _each_ , with a triple bonus if either of us gets injured,” Draco insisted.

“Fair enough,” Kingsley agreed with a nod.

“Alright, let us know once the raid's been organized,” Draco accepted mildly as he watched Greg line up his shot. Greg somehow beat both him and Harry, making them grumble a bit petulantly.

“And if there's _any_ way you can get a hold of some of her hair or something she touches a lot, please have that ready for me,” Harry added.

“I'll see what I can do,” Kingsley murmured with a small smile.

Harry grinned at him. “Thanks for bringing this to me. You're right, I just can't resist helping people.”

Kingsley and Harry shared a brief hug. “You're welcome, and I'm glad to see you back in London.”

“We're actually in _Wiltshire,”_ Draco sneered, all but calling the Minister a moron.

“That too,” Kingsley muttered in agreement, tempted to roll his eyes. “I'll be in touch.”

Draco held up a hand. “And be sure to let that Russian mob boss know that once we've rescued his daughter and returned her safely, he'll owe us a big reward.”

“I warn you not to press your luck, young Malfoy...”

“He'll pay,” Draco stated confidently. “He'll be too grateful not to. I'm just saying, warn him beforehand that you have your best man on the job and that the best is well worth any price.” He then gestured after the balls on the green. “If you'll excuse us, we have a game to finish before you call on us for that raid.”

Kingsley held Harry back as Draco and most of his friends headed to the next area they needed to putt from. Lucius, Narcissa, and Blaise stayed behind out of curiosity. Harry looked more curious than anything as well.

“I thought you were in this business to help people, not to make money,” Kingsley said.

Harry nodded. “I am. I honestly wouldn't care if I never got paid for it, but Malfoy keeps telling me that our time is valuable and that the lives we save are even more valuable. To my continual surprise, he's usually right about that. That said, when we are asked – rather a lot – to help people who _can't_ afford to pay, I negotiate nominal fees. Don't worry, I still help those who need me, regardless of how much money they have.”

“I fear that maybe he is a bad influence on you, making you lose sight of what's really important,” Kingsley murmured in concern.

Harry shook his head. “Nah! Malfoy's the best partner I could ask for. I trust him with my life, and no matter what it looks like at the moment, this is still _my_ business. We'd have taken the job regardless, which is why he didn't set an outrageous fee and take the time to bicker with you about it. He loves to argue, if you didn't already know that, so the fact that he didn't make you argue with him means that he knows I would have put my foot down and taken the job no matter what terms you wanted. Instead, he chose an amount that he knew you'd agree to but still pacified his sense of how much money we should be earning.”

“Hmm...” Kingsley hummed in thought, dropping the matter so that he could get back to his office.

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a glance that speculated on the possibility that Harry and Draco were in an actual relationship after all. Now that Lucius had gotten over the initial shock, he was of the opinion that Draco could date and eventually marry whomever he liked, so long as that person didn't constantly lead him into danger. He might just have to come up with something that tempted Draco into staying home and settling down. Perhaps a business designed to captivate Draco's interest? It was worth a try...

 


	14. The Case of Yulia Selnikov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco have been hired to locate and protect a Russian Mob Boss' daughter who had been kidnapped by members of the Irish Mob.

 

Harry and Draco got their summons during dinner. Draco had pointed out that since he was flying everyone back to Malfoy Manor anyway, it would be sort of stupid for Harry  _ not _ to just join them. With a shrug, Harry agreed.

It was one of the weirdest experiences of Harry's life! He was polite and engaged in the conversation, but... so was everyone else. He was at a table full of Slytherins and they really only talked about the weather and golf. Everyone also had excellent manners, asking for things to be passed as necessary. He honestly didn't know what to think.

Thus, when the house elf popped into the room to deliver Harry the message saying that it was time for him and Draco to join the raid preparations, he felt more than a little relieved. He made his excuses as he stood up, and Draco didn't even protest or try to delay their departure. The Slytherin prince simply stood up and made his own excuses, reassuring his parents that he would be just fine.

They let the elf Apparate them to the correct place, since elves could often Apparate to places that were warded so that others couldn't. Upon arrival, they noticed that they were in a room full of Aurors, regular muggle police – from Britain mostly, but one from each Russia and Ireland – and a variety of officials. Harry was expected, but apparently Draco was not.

“What in the buggering hell, sir?! He's a death eater!!!” Anthony Goldstein protested, pointing at Draco.

“He should be tossed in a cell for the duration of the raid!” A different Auror added.

Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it in the offending Auror's face. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“Er...” about half the Aurors and at least one official took a step back.

“Mr. Malfoy has permission from the Minister for Magic himself to participate in this raid, so I'd suggested keeping your fool mouths shut,” Gawain Robards informed them all.

Hearing no further insults or protests, Harry put his wand away. Gawain shook his hand.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Potter. We're hoping that this raid will go exactly the way your last one did – minus the Polyjuice. You and your partner will have one job – find Yulia Selnikov and keep her safe. Since we  _ think _ we're dealing with muggles – for the most part – we have in the know officers working with us and a liaison from each country to let us know if the abductors say anything in Russian or Gaelic, or do anything – such as make a cultural gesture we wouldn't recognize – that we need to know about right away – such as order a bomb armed.”

Robards turned to indicate a surly looking man. “This is Pieter Selnikov – it's his daughter we're trying to rescue.”

In thickly accented English, Selnikov sized Harry up. “ _ This _ is your best man? He looks barely old enough to shave!”

Harry shrugged. “I don't know if I'd call myself  _ the best _ , but I did defeat a madman hell bent on taking over the world. I'm also pretty good at my job and am confident that I'll be able to find your daughter and keep her safe.”

After a long and tense moment, the man cracked a tiny smile and held out his hand for Harry to shake. “You have impressive balls on you, which I like. My daughter means everything to me. I would not hesitate to kill to protect her.”

“I wouldn't hesitate to kill someone to protect an innocent life – if it came to that, which it usually doesn't,” Harry stated evenly.

“He's more likely to die in order to protect someone,” Draco pointed out with an indifferent shrug.

“ _ One time _ !” Harry exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands out to emphasize his point. “Two if you count the time I got shot when we stumbled upon a gang shootout and I dove on top of a kid playing in the yard.”

“Three if you count the time you saw a dolphin in a bloody trawling net and forgot to cast a buggering Bubblehead Charm when you dove into the ocean to free him,” Draco added with a look that made it clear he  _ still _ thought Harry was an idiot for that.

Harry cupped his chin in his hand and thought this over. “Alright, so maybe I am a bit careless with my life when it comes to saving things.”

Draco smacked him upside the back of the head, which frankly shocked all the magic users in the room. “Saying that you're only a little careless is a bit like saying that the Dark Lord was only a little insane, when clearly, he was a bloody raving lunatic.”

Harry shrugged. “You're probably not wrong. Mr. Selnikov, do you have anything of your daughter's for me to use?”

The muggle mob boss gave Harry a curious look. “Are you going to sniff her out like a dog?”

Harry laughed. “Something like that!”

Draco snorted in amusement. “So you finally admit that you're a mangy mutt!” A few people, such as Anthony Goldstein, looked ready to hex Draco for, well, being Draco.

“Better a mutt than a prat,” Harry grumbled in agreement as he took hold of the bundle Pieter Selnikov handed over.

“These were the only things I could find that I was certain had her DNA on it – dirty laundry from her hamper,” Pieter informed Harry.

Harry opened the bundle to find that it was a dress with a bra and a pair of knickers rolled up inside it. He held the lacy hot pink knickers up in amusement. “At least it's not a used flannel this time.” He handed Draco the rest of the clothes to hold while he grabbed his wand and held it on his right hand with the knickers in his left. “Point me Yulia Selnikov!” The knickers immediately began to glow, which transferred to Harry's wand, at which point, he handed the knickers to Draco. “Put those in your carryall in case Yulia needs a change of clothes.”

“Right,” Draco agreed, waving his hand over his watch to open it so that the clothes could go in.

“So here's what we're going to do,” Robards addressed everyone in the room. “We're going to Apparate to designated points – I have a list of each point and who's assigned to them on the board. Once we're in position, we're going to erect Anti-Apparation wards. That'll prevent anyone from just Apparating away with Yulia Selnikov. Each muggle officer is assigned to work with an Auror or team. The muggles have technology that we're all going to wear to prevent dying from gun shot wounds to the chest. That said, if  _ any _ of you sees someone pointing a gun at a member of our team, immediately cast a shield charm.”

He paused to take a breath before resuming. “As far as our intelligence reports, the Russians are holed up outside the wards protecting the Irish. They haven't found a way in yet, so the imminent war between them hasn't started yet. We think the Irish might have already or currently be in the process of setting traps. Which means we have to be careful not to get caught in them ourselves.

“Once we take down the wards, there's a high chance that everything's going to go to shit,” Robards told them all. “If the Russians realize that there's nothing keeping them out, they might just go in and start shooting.”

“Can't you just have Gospodin Selnikov order his men to stay out of it until we either succeed and they're not needed, or we fail and they have to teach the Irish a painful lesson?” Draco asked, thinking that this would be the wisest course of action.

Pieter Selnikov took a good look at Draco and turned his head just a bit to the side as if suspicious. “They called you Draco Malfoy, da?”

“Da,” Draco confirmed.

“Grandson of Druella Black?” Pieter probed with a guarded expression.

“Da,” Draco confirmed again.

Pieter crossed himself and muttered a prayer in Russian. Then he cleared his throat. Still in Russian he said: “I am so sorry about this unpleasantness, Gospodin Malfoy. Could you please not mention this shameful situation to your grandmother?”

Draco waved his hand dismissively and replied in fairly fluent Russian: “No problem. I'm not here on my grandmother's behalf.”

Pieter sighed, visibly relieved. In English, he murmured. “When this is over and you have returned my daughter to me, I'll buy an expensive bottle of vodka to drink with you.”

“So long as you don't forget about our reward,” Draco reminded him with a pleasant smile.

“Of course not!” Pieter exclaimed, clearly offended that his honor was being questioned.

“Klahs,” Draco stated in satisfaction.

“Since when do you speak Russian?” Harry asked curiously.

“Since I was born and used to spend as much time as possible with my grandmother, who currently lives in Russia,” Draco replied with a shrug.

“I didn't know that,” Harry murmured, impressed and not quite sure why.

Draco merely shrugged.

Pieter answered Draco's question to the Head Auror. “I  _ have _ ordered my men to stand down, but Vladimir is promised to wed Yulia and  _ he _ might 'accidentally' forget in his haste to get her back.”

“Ah,” Draco stated in understanding. He switched to Russian. “Will he not be punished brutally for disobeying you?”

“Of course!”

Draco chuckled. “Yulia must be gorgeous for Vladimir to want her back so badly.”

“Da,” Pieter agreed proudly.

The Russian officer pointed at Draco. “I want to be paired with him instead.”

This frankly surprised most of the Aurors, who were still having a hard time wrapping their heads around the fact that Draco was even allowed to be here.

“Why?” Robards asked with interest.

“Two reasons. One, he can understand me if I can't remember a word in English. Two, his grandmother is Druella Black and I'd rather have someone as ruthless as her at my back than almost anyone else here,” she explained.

“Too bad,” Harry stated flatly as he lifted an arm so that Draco could help him fasten the Kevlar properly. “He's my partner. And he's actually not that ruthless.”

“Haven't had to be,” Draco murmured with a shrug, letting Harry return the favor.

“Besides,” Robards interjected. “He's not an Auror; he's an Independent Consultant, so I  _ can't _ assign you to him.”

She sighed in defeat but nodded in understanding.

Robards looked around and saw that everyone had their gear on and was ready to go. “Remember, once we're at the Apparation points, remain quiet until the wards are up and the signal is given. We'll basically swarm the place – letting Potter and Malfoy go wherever they need to while the rest of us stick to our assigned formations. Got it?”

“Yes sir!” Everyone agreed.

“Good,” Robards stated.

Harry and Draco were looking at the board to see where their designated Apparation point was. Harry looked at Draco with a fairly serious expression. “You Apparate, I prepare to defend us if necessary?”

Draco nodded in agreement, waiting for Harry to draw his wand before holding his hand out. When ready, Harry slipped his free hand into Draco's – who promptly Apparated them both to the right place. The Head Auror and a few others were assigned to the same spot while the rest of the Aurors and officers participating in the raid went to the spots assigned to them.

Everything was silent for a few minutes as those assigned to erect the wards did their work. As each finished, a tiny flash of light would come from Robards wand – which he had a hand cupped around to prevent any of the Irish mobsters from seeing. Once all the wards were up – and the protective wards on the place were shattered – Robards sent a flash of light to everyone's wand at the same time to signal that it was time to go.

Harry pulled out his cloak and swirled it around him and Draco so that they would be able to see where his wand pointed them, but would be invisible to everyone else. It pointed directly into the house that appeared when the wards came down, at one of the windows on the third floor – which just so happened to be open. Pulling out his broom, Harry flew them up to the window, but then Draco had to Disillusion them anyway so that they could awkwardly climb in through the window without being seen.

Inside the window, they found that they were actually in an empty hallway outside a bedroom, presumably. Draco could feel where Harry was because Harry had whipped the cloak around a bit carelessly to put it back in his pouch – not to mention his broom was visible and looked like it was floating by itself before it too disappeared into the pouch. Draco reached over and found Harry's arm, which he followed downward until they were holding hands. This was important so that they didn't lose each other while invisible.

Before Harry could open the door, Draco tugged on him, using his other hand to locate Harry's face and give him a soft kiss.

“What was that for?” Harry asked in a whisper.

“You stuck up for me,” Draco informed him almost silently, kissing him again.

“Of course I did; you're my partner,” Harry replied in a soft voice, smiling even though Draco couldn't see it. He then cast spells on the door so that it would open silently and without being noticed by anyone inside the room.

A moment later, they were slightly shocked to see that Yulia was not only unharmed, but she seemed to be snuggling with one of her captors. To be clear, this wasn't laying there numbly after a rape, but actually sitting in bed with her arms wrapped around a man who held her tenderly. They were both wearing pajamas.

“Everything will be fine,” the man assured her.

“But if Vladimir finds me...” Yulia protested softly.

“He won't,” the man assured her, stroking her long, light brown hair. “We're well protected by my cousin here.”

“But you don't understand what Vladimir's like! I love you so much I just can't bear the thought of him getting his hands on you!” Yulia cried out softly.

“Hush, my love,” the man crooned in his Irish accent. “We'll be fine.”

Harry looked to the ceiling and tore at his hair. Why oh why did he sometimes get hired to recover people who didn't want to be found???

Draco seemed to read his mind because he responded by casting immobilization charms on both of them before ending the Disillusion spells. Then he held his hands up soothingly. This didn't actually matter since the lovers couldn't move, but he hoped it made them slightly less panicky.

“Easy there, we're not here to hurt you,” Draco explained. “We've been hired by Gospodin Selnikov to rescue his daughter. We have  _ no _ interest in giving you to Vladimir.” Then to drive his point home, he switched to Russian. “Your father is very worried about you, Gospoja Selnikov. More than anything, he just wants to make sure you're safe.”

In Russian, Yulia haughtily replied: “I  _ know _ that! The problem is that he cannot take back his agreement for me to marry Vladimir without risking a civil war.  _ And _ he wouldn't be  _ able _ to give me permission to marry Sean without the entire Russian mob thinking he was betraying them. I  _ had _ to run away!”

Sighing in frustration, Draco turned to Harry. “She says that she had to run away to escape marriage to Vladimir and save her father from having to betray their people.”

“What do we do now?” Harry wondered, then shook his head. “Actually, I know. We'll protect her like we're supposed to, but then  _ also _ help her deal with her father and Vladimir.” He then turned to Yulia and Sean. “Sorry but...” Abruptly, he transfigured them both into small wooden toys. A soldier for Sean and a ballerina for Yulia, which he promptly pocketed.

“Disillusion again?” Draco asked as Harry pulled out his broom.

“Yep,” Harry confirmed.

Soon, they were invisible and on the broom again. Harry flew them back out the hall window. Robards was still hanging around outside the house so that he could assess the situation fully and give orders as necessary. Harry flew up to him and whispered so that no one else would be able to hear him.

“I have Yulia and I'm bringing her to safety.”

“Understood,” Robards murmured as he held out a slip of paper for Harry to take. It had the coordinates on it for the safe house that had been set up for them.

“See you there,” Harry murmured. He landed in a safe place and Apparated them to the coordinates.

An hour later, Robards Apparated to the safe house with Selnikov. He explained that the Irish and the Russians were all in custody until the situation could be sorted.

“Where's my daughter!” Pieter demanded fiercely.

“She's safe,” Harry assured him. “More importantly, she wasn't kidnapped; she ran away to be with the man she loved. She knew that you couldn't break her engagement to Vladimir and she wanted to ensure you saved face.”

Pieter took a step back and regarded Harry warily. “She told you this?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed. “And since my job is to protect her, my loyalty is to her. I will not give her back to you unless you promise me that she will be free to be with the man she loves.”

Pieter took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “I love my daughter more than anything. I want her to be happy, but that's not always easy. If I break her engagement, Vladimir will use it as an excuse to gather support and have me executed.”

“So execute him first,” Draco suggested in Russian. “Claim he was a traitor or abusive to your daughter.”

Pieter stroked his chin in thought. “That could work.”

“What did you say to him?” Harry asked in a whisper.

Draco simply shrugged.

“Alright, fine, I give my word that Yulia will be free to be with the man she loves,” Pieter promised.

“ _ And _ that  _ he _ will be free to be with her,” Draco added insistently.

Pieter laughed. “Your grandmother's grandson through and through! Yes, I swear he'll be free to be with her as well.”

Nodding in satisfaction, Harry handed the toys over to Draco, who was better at reversing the transfiguration.

“Yulia!” Pieter exclaimed in relief, rushing to hug her tight.

“Papochka!” Yulia cried out, happy to be in her father's arms.

Harry cleared his throat. “I've made your father promise that the two of you can be together.”

“You mean that?!” Yulia asked in shock and excitement.

“I do,” Pieter vowed with a heavy sigh.

Elated, she kissed his cheek and hugged him tight again.

“I just can't publicly acknowledge it,” Pieter added.

“I know,” she murmured sadly.

He stroked her hair a couple of times before pushing her away. “Which means that you need to run away again. I'll give you enough money that you can go somewhere that no one would think to look for you. Stay away until I post on our  _ family _ website that it's safe for you to come home again.”

“Da otets,” Yulia murmured obediently. They gave each other one last hug and kiss on the cheek before letting go. Pieter gave Sean a stern look when Yulia took his hand.

“You take very good care of my daughter, or there will be nowhere on this planet you can hide from me,” he promised.

Sean swallowed a bit nervously and nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good,” Pieter stated before turning to Harry and Draco. “I have your payment here.” He handed them an envelope full of cash. “As for you, my darling little girl, stay here where it is safe until I can give Mr. Robards here the money I promised you.

“Da otets,” Yulia murmured with a nod.

With a nod of his own, Pieter held out his hand so that Robards could Apparate him away.

“Good work, Potter. Malfoy,” Robards murmured before taking Pieter away.

Draco turned and smiled at Harry. “See you tomorrow when you bring me golfing again.”

Harry smiled in return, pulling on Draco's arm to bring him closer. “I look forward to it,” he murmured as he gave Draco a soft kiss.

Smiling, Draco returned the kiss, then pulled free so that he could Apparate home. Harry turned to Yulia and Sean. Yulia looked astonished, but Sean simply grinned at him.

“I'm happy that things will work out for you after all. I hope you have a happy life together,” Harry wished them.

“You too!” Sean bade as Yulia nodded in agreement.

 

***

 

Back at Malfoy Manor, Draco's parents and friends were sitting around drinking wine and playing cards as they waited for him to return.

“Well that didn't take too long,” Theo murmured in surprise.

“Honestly, as Harry keeps saying, most of our jobs are really rather boring. All we did was fly in a window, turn a pair of lovers into toys, and fly back out again,” Draco informed them with a shrug. “We're done and have our reward in less than two hours.” He pulled Adira off his shoulder and kissed her on the nose. “And you were perfect as always, sitting invisible and silent on my shoulder.”

Adira made her crackling noise of happiness and flapped her wings a little as she rubbed her head against his cheek.

“I want one of those!” Pansy and Blaise grumbled jealously.

“Too bad!” Draco exclaimed with a smug smirk. “Now if you'll all excuse me, I'd quite like to take a shower and go to bed.”

“Mind if I stay the night?” Blaise asked. “I've got a million questions I want to ask.”

“Ooo! Me too!” Pansy exclaimed eagerly.

Draco shrugged indifferently. “Why not?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously feel like I'm letting y'all down with the super simple and easy cases, but I also think that Harry's not really being hired as a detective so much as a 'finder' or 'solver' and so the cases aren't supposed to be complicated so much as things that Harry can do that others either can't or would like his help with :-)


	15. In Which Harry and Draco Uncover a Nasty Scam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While golfing, Harry and Draco over hear that a man's trying to kill himself, and naturally have to find out why and what they can do to help him fix his problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Draco loses his calm...

 

“So what was it that Ginny wanted to talk to you about the other day?” Draco asked as he lined up his shot and swung his club. They were about two fifths of the way through the ninth hole, referred to as Castle by the Manor House Golf Club at Castle Combe.

“She wanted to talk about our various travels and reaffirm that she and I aren't ready to settle down yet,” Harry answered as he walked over to his ball to take his turn. It was just the two of them playing today. “She also wanted to have a good shag before asking my permission to half date one of her fans.”

“Half date?” Draco asked curiously in confusion. “How does one half date? Either one dates or one doesn't.”

Harry laughed. “What she means is that she wants to play around regularly with one man in particular – a fan that travels around so that he can attend all her games. He's rather devoted and that interests her. But she doesn't want to get too serious about him, thus doesn't want to actually date him.”

Draco raised a brow at Harry. “And she is loyal enough to you that she asked permission before shagging him? Does she know that you've had quite a few lovers in the last year?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I told her that, and actually, she has too. But one offs are different than having a semi relationship with someone.”

“Ah,” Draco murmured in understanding, gesturing toward their golf balls since it was time to go after them. They talked as they walked. “Pansy and Blaise were dying to know what it's like to shag you.”

Harry chuckled. “What'd you tell them?”

Draco shrugged. “I told them that it was bold and adventurous – like the rest of you. I'm actually rather tired today since they vowed to prove that together, they could out shag you.”

“And did they?” Harry wondered, tilting his head curiously.

Draco covered a yawn. “Well they definitely wore me out, but I like shagging. It's  _ all _ good. I can't say that they were definitively better than you, but they were emphatically committed to making me feel good.”

“Hmm,” Harry murmured speculatively. “You think they'd commit themselves to making me feel good too?”

Draco snorted in amusement. “You probably wouldn't be able to fully get the question out of your mouth before they dragged you to the nearest bed.”

“Kinky,” Harry stated with a grin. “I was surprised to find myself liking all your Slytherin friends yesterday.”

“What's not to like?” Draco asked with a smug grin. “Slytherin is the best House in Hogwarts.”

Harry harrumphed. “I think you mean Gryffindor is.”

Draco shook his head. “See that's part of the curse of being a Gryffindor; you don't know how stupid and foolish you really are.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Alright Malfoy, if you say so.”

They reached Draco's ball, which had landed just outside a sand trap. For once Harry had not only avoided the trap, but was also a few feet ahead of Draco – which meant he was already on the green and Draco wasn't. Draco lined up his shot.

“I got an owl from Robards this morning,” Harry said after Draco sent his ball arcing toward the hole. “He just wanted to let me know that Pieter Selnikov honored his word and gave Yulia enough money to start a life somewhere new. Also, since Yulia had technically ran away, no crime was committed, so all those mobsters were released and sent back to their own countries.”

“You're mistaking me for someone who cares,” Draco drawled snobbishly as they walked over to Harry's ball.

“You care,” Harry stated as if there was no other option.

“Hmph!” Draco harrumphed. Adira chittered for a moment and snuggled more into his neck before turning invisible. 

Just as Harry was lining up his shot the small distance to the hole, he heard. “But dad! You're drunk!” A look ahead and slightly off to the right revealed a scrawny boy of about 16 chasing after his father. They had just emerged from one of the buildings belonging to the golf club.

“Go away!” The father roared, definitely sounding drunk. In his distraction, he was lightly jogging across the lawn, straight toward the green where Harry and Draco were rather hoping he'd notice them and veer off in another direction.

“Dad,  _ stop _ !” The boy called out desperately.

“Leave me alone, Jack! You're better off without me anyway!” The man cried, tripping over the rough leading up to the green. He rolled over and pulled a knife out of his back pocket – it looked like a good quality steak knife. “Go away and let me do this in peace! You shouldn't see such a thing!” He didn't wait for his son to obey before placing the knife against his wrist, clearly intending to slash himself.

Harry whipped out his wand before he could even think about it. “Accio knife!” The knife promptly leapt out of the man's hand and flew at Harry, point aimed directly at his head. He caught it easily with his seeker reflexes and stashed it in his back pocket.

The boy flung himself on his father and hugged him tight. The man frowned in confusion at Harry and Draco.

“Who're you and how'd you steal my knife like that?”

Draco took a few steps forward. “More importantly, what sort of father tries to off himself right in front of his son?!” He was glaring rather darkly – an expression Harry couldn't recall seeing in quite some time.

“You shut your pretty little mouth!” The man roared in outrage. “Jack's better off without me!”

“I am not!” Jack fervently denied.

“Are so! What sort of father can't even help his sweet boy grow up to be a good man?”

Harry scratched his head in confusion. “A: your son is fairly close to becoming a man, so obviously you've done a good job of that so far, and B: how exactly would murdering yourself help you help him?”

“He'd inherit the insurance money and be able to use that to pay for his heart transplant,” he explained with a look as if this should have been obvious to everyone.

“I don't want it! I wouldn't use the money even if I had it! Not if it meant you were dead,” Jack insisted.

Draco squatted to pierce the man with his steely gaze. “And besides, unless you have an unusual life insurance policy, it wouldn't pay out anyway. Suicide isn't covered.”

The man looked on the verge of sobbing now. “Well what else can I do?! I've  _ lost _ everything!”

“You can sober up and stop thinking about killing yourself, for starters,” Draco informed him, then pulled out his wand and silently cast a sobriety charm on him.

The man clutched his head and gasped. “What did you do to me?!”

“Nothing,” Draco lied, putting his wand away again. “Just pointed my lucky stick at you. Do you feel better now?”

“I do...” he murmured in amazement.

Harry squatted to look at him too. “Can you tell us what's going on now?”

He sighed heavily. “I've failed my son. He has a degenerative heart condition and he's on the transplant list back home, but there's an estimated three year wait but doctors say he probably won't last much more than a year. So I've been looking for alternatives and I found a company that makes an experimental drug that could strengthen his heart enough that he might live long enough to get a transplant – or at least I thought I did. Turns out the whole thing is a scam and I've just lost nearly a quarter million dollars. And to top it all off, I don't have the money to bring us home, so we're stuck here with passports that are about to expire!”

“American dollars?” Draco asked.

“Does that matter?” Harry wondered with a frown.

Draco shrugged. “Just trying to get the facts right in my head.”

“Yes, American dollars,” the man confirmed.

“You're going to do the bleeding heart Gryffindor thing, aren't you?” Draco stated more than asked.

Harry looked over at the green and let out a mournful sigh. “And I was winning – for once.” He turned back to the man and his son and held out a hand. “Hi, I'm Harry Potter and I think I can help you.”

The man hesitantly shook Harry's hand. “I'm Matt Greene. How can you possibly help me?”

“My partner Draco Malfoy and I specialize in helping people,” Harry said.

Draco grabbed him by the arm and yanked him a few feet away. “Don't. I know you and you're about to offer to get all his money back for him. That'll be far too much work for no reward. I beg you, just pay for his tickets back to America and leave well enough alone.”

Harry gave Draco a flat look. “And let someone get away with scamming a lot of money out of people who have heart problems?”

Draco sighed. “I knew you were going to say that.” He turned back to Matt Greene. “You're in luck, we've decided to help you for free. I have no idea how we're going to track this false company down and get your money back, but that's somehow exactly what my partner specializes in.”

Harry walked over and sat down next to them, pulling a notepad out of his pocket. “Tell me everything. How did you find this company? How do you contact them. Every little detail that will help me find them.”

For the next hour, Matt told Harry all about how his cousin had found an advert in the paper about a trial for a new drug for heart patients. About how he'd brought his son Jack to England to try it. How the initial results were encouraging, so he'd spent all the money he had on the drug – including funding the company's trials so that the drug could be approved for use quicker – only to find that the drug was never real and it was just a placebo. The company suddenly disappeared overnight, and now even his cousin can't help him get back home – considering that he's only a temporary employee of the Manor House Golf Club and doesn't make much money.

Harry bit his lip and hummed in thought. For once, he didn't have an object or person to cast a Four Point spell on. He had no idea how he was going to find this scam artist.

“Well,” he eventually said with a sigh. “I'll just have to start with what I  _ can _ do. Come on.”

“Er, what?” Draco asked in confusion as he helped Harry to his feet.

“They're broke, so they'll need a place to stay, right?” Harry reminded Draco. 

Draco sighed and shook his head as if Harry was being too thick for his own good again. “Bloody Gryffindor.”

Harry helped Matt and his son to their feet. After digging in his pocket – and subtly conjuring two pieces of paper – he handed them each his address. “Look at that for a moment.”

“Is this a homeless shelter or something?” Matt asked with a confused frown.

“Might as well be,” Draco replied with an amused snort.

“No,” Harry denied with a shake of his head. “It's my house. You just need to know the address before I can bring you there. Can I hold both of your hands for a moment?”

“ _ Muggles _ ,” Draco muttered significantly.

“I don't care,” Harry stated. “I have permission to do whatever I deem necessary in order to solve my cases.”

Exchanging a wary glance with his son, Matt decided to trust Harry since there was literally nothing to lose. Once their hands were in his, Harry Apparated them to his house. Draco followed them, arriving in the drawing room in time to hear Matt and Jack gasp and babble incredulously.

Harry turned to stride out of the room. “Shevvie, are you home?”

Rhys came running into the room. “Harry!” He flung himself into Harry's arms, despite being eight and getting a little too old for such things. “I thought you were going to be gone for  _ hours _ yet.”

“So did I,” Siobhan said as she entered the room. “Oh? Who's this?”

“This is Matt Greene and his son Jack. They need a place to stay while I figure out how to help them,” Harry explained. “Can you get them settled in?”

“Muggles?” Siobhan asked with interest.

“Yes,” Harry confirmed with a slight nod.

She turned to smile at them, noting how Matt looked very interested in her. “Right, there are a few things you need to know if you're staying in Harry's house. First of all, if you think you're hearing whispers or seeing things move out of the corner of your eye, you're not crazy, you really are hearing and seeing things. Second of all, the portrait of Mrs. Black is going to scream at you at some point. There's just no getting around that. Most importantly, whatever you do, never, under any circumstances,  _ ever _ touch that cabinet over there or go into the third floor storage closet, because if you do, you'll –”

“Master is home,” Kreacher stated in his gloomy voice.

“ _ AH _ !” Matt and Jack screamed in unison. “ _ What is that thing _ ?!”

“That's Kreacher,” Rhys informed them with an amused grin. “He's sort of mean, always saying the weirdest things, but he's harmless. Kreacher, you always make the tastiest plum pies. I don't suppose that you could make one for me...”

Kreacher frowned at him. “The muggle brat wants me to serve him. However, the muggle brat is right, Kreacher  _ does _ make good plum pies... Yes... Kreacher will make a plum pie... Does Master wish Kreacher to make anything else?”

“I could go for a ham sandwich,” Harry stated because it was well past the time they were going to break for lunch after the ninth hole.

“Yes Master,” Kreacher murmured obediently.

“I'd love a roast beef and sauerkraut on rye,” Draco added.

“It would be my pleasure, oh honored son of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy and Black – he who  _ should _ have inherited Kreacher,” he grumbled as he left the room.

“Wait a moment, Kreacher,” Harry bade, making the elf stop in his tracks. “Are either of you hungry. Kreacher can make just about anything you want.”

“I'd love a pizza,” Jack said with a grin.

His father gave him a light glare. “Pizza is  _ not _ on the approved list for your diet. You'll have a grilled chicken breast and a salad with red wine vinaigrette. I'd like a grilled chicken breast sandwich with bacon.”

“Did you get all of that?” Harry asked Kreacher. 

“Yes Master,” he acknowledged gloomily.

Siobhan smiled at him and pet his head – which she correctly guessed the location of based on his voice and a lot of practice. “Thank you Kreacher. You're such good house elf.”

Kreacher was torn between aversion to muggles and pride at the praise. He was  _ always _ torn when she praised him – not to mention aghast that she dared to touch him. However, he was now rather fond of her and merely grumbled as he left the room.

“The muggle woman thinks she can pet Kreacher like a dog. Why does Master let her live here? Kreacher was just fine all on his own.”

“Come on,” Siobhan invited the guests. “I'll show you to rooms while Kreacher makes your lunch. I'll also show you around – yes Zoë! We have guests. Honestly dog! A person could come in and rob the place blind in the time it takes you to wake up from your nap and notice.”

Zoë stopped her sudden outburst of barking to sniff the visitors, and then she turned and chomped down on Harry's right trouser leg. Growling, she whipped her head back and forth as if trying to tear the leg off the trousers. Harry sighed in defeat.

“She's still mad at me,” he murmured to himself as he bent over to pet Zoë along her back. “Come on girl, can't you forgive me?”

Still growling, Zoë stopped trying to rip Harry's trousers, but she didn't let go until he stuck his finger under the wrinkle of furry skin above her nose and petted her there. This made her let go and shake her head side to side to dislodge his finger. Then she backed up and sniffed his finger before licking it. He picked her up and snuggled her for a moment before kissing her nose, prompting her to lick his face.

Draco reached out and ruffled the fur on her head. This caused a screech of outrage from Adira, who – now that the muggles were out of the room – felt she could turn visible. She took flight and turned so that she was hovering in Draco's face. Her glare was rather impressive. Draco quirked an eyebrow at her.

“You get jealous in a baffling way,” he told her. “First Pansy and now Zoë, but  _ not _ Blaise or Harry?”

Harry laughed. “Well Pansy and Zoë are both girls. She probably thinks they are competition while Blaise and I are... just friends, I suppose.” He then gave Draco a smooch. “I knew from practically the day you first got her that Adira was going to fall for you. Probably a good thing she doesn't consider me competition, eh?”

Draco blushed lightly. “Damn it! I was hoping you wouldn't find out that Adira thinks I belong to her.”

“I'd have to be blind not to notice that!” Harry exclaimed with a laugh.

Draco frowned as a thought occurred to him. “Erm... what will happen if those muggles go in the third floor closet?”

“They'll get lost in there,” Harry stated with a shrug. “It's a massive storage warehouse and even I need my compass spell to navigate through it.” He then jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “And that cabinet will petrify you if you open it. Learned that the hard way. The funny thing is that it didn't start doing that until after I inherited the house, so it must think it's protecting family heirlooms from me since I don't have their blood, even though it was completely cleaned out back in Fifth Year.”

They could hear Rhys babbling excitedly in the background. “And outside, there's  _ real fairies _ ! Plus, I think a few of the potatoes in the garden are alive! I've seen them move! Zoë sometimes tries to lick them and they run away.”

Harry chuckled and stroked Zoë's back since she was still in his arms. “Do you really try to lick the garden gnomes, girl?”

Zoë simply snorted and licked his hand some more.

About twenty minutes later, Kreacher was serving them all in the dining room. Even the plum pie was magically ready to eat.

“So what's the case?” Siobhan asked since she had already eaten earlier and had nothing better to do.

Harry fished the notepad out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “I need to track down some scammers.”

Siobhan read over his notes and bit her lip. “Hmm... actually... I'm pretty sure I read...” she trailed off, getting up and rushing over to a cardboard box in the drawing room. She returned a minute later with a stack of newspapers. She chuckled. “You know, the subscription services for the various newspapers continually send me notes asking if there really is anyone receiving the papers in this derelict lot. I've taken to leaving biscuits to reassure them.”

She separated the bundle of newspapers into four stacks. One was The Sun, one was the Daily Mail, one was the Daily Mirror, and the last one was the Daily Telegraph. Picking the top paper off the first stack, she opened it and quickly found the adverts section.

“Uh-huh! I knew this sounded familiar. Here's one saying that they're researching diabetes medication. Same number...” She murmured to herself as she looked through the rest of the papers she had on the table. She found six different types of medications supposedly being researched, all with the same number listed. “I'm willing to bet that this is to a mobile, and that the scammers rent out various cheap office spaces around the city to meet with people who agree to test the drug being researched.”

Harry grinned at her. “Thanks Shevvie! Have I ever mentioned that you're a real gem?”

Draco sighed and held out his hand. “Let me use your muggle thingie.”

Laughing, Siobhan pulled a small rectangular phone out of her back pocket. She handed it over. “It's called a mobile.”

“Meh,” Draco stated with a shrug. He called the number, not surprised to get a recorded message. When asked to leave a message at the tone, he said: “Hi, I'm calling about your advert in the paper. My, erm,” he looked over at Rhys and realized that there was no way he could claim to be the boy's father. “ _ Nephew _ has diabetes and I'd like to bring him in and have him try this drug. If you could please give me a call back, my number is...” he leaned over so that he could read off the number to the mobile that Siobhan quickly wrote down on a piece of paper. After that, he murmured thanks and hung up.

“That's  _ brilliant!” _ Harry exclaimed, giving Draco a grin. “We've got a place to start!”

Draco nodded in agreement. “And since Matt said that the drug was really nothing more than sugar pills, you can Polyjuice into Rhys and I can bring you in to actually try the 'drug' while we ask questions and snoop around. Maybe we'll be able to find something.”

“Such as a safe full of money?” Harry inquired with a smirk.

Draco chuckled. “And a list of names of everyone they ever scammed.”

“We could have them arrested if they had that!” Harry burst out gleefully.

“But they're almost certainly going to be smarter than that. In any case, we can always follow them and see if they lead us to the money,” Draco planned out.

“Well of course,” Harry stated with a tone of  _ duh _ . “That part was a given.”

“Well, while you're waiting for a call back, maybe you should stop over at this house,” Siobhan suggested as she pushed a piece of paper with a name, address, and telephone number on it over to Harry. “I don't think it's a curse, but this is an old house. The owners have recently started renovating it and they went to knock down a wall, only to find a door that had been bricked up. They open it and see nothing but black. When they're brave enough to go through the door, they seem to be in an empty room, but not even the brightest torches can illuminate the room. So, I think it's some sort of wizarding space that got forgotten about at some point, and then boarded up by muggles who didn't understand what it was.”

“That sounds like it should be a quick and easy fix,” Harry murmured.

“Oi!” Draco protested. “Easy for  _ me _ maybe, but you're shite with those sort of spells. And I'm not sure it'll be worth my time.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Consider it your good deed for the day.”

“Maybe for the month, but I'll  _ never _ do a good deed each day,” Draco drawled poshly.

“I'll make it worth your while,” Harry cajoled.

Draco looked both interested and suspicious. “Yeah?”

Harry grinned at him suggestively.

“Oh,” Draco stated in understanding. “Well, in that case, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look at this mysterious room.” He rubbed his shoulders to confirm that Adira hadn't returned yet. “But it'll have to wait until Adira comes in from hunting in your garden. By the way, Siobhan, you've worked miracles on the garden since Potter and I took off to America. It's lovely.”

“Thank you!” Siobhan purred happily at the praise. “I've really enjoyed having a garden. Now that my full time job is taking care of Harry's home – along with the letters I respond to and whatnot – I find that I can do things in my spare time that I was never able to do before. Before, I was lucky if I could afford to take Rhys to a movie on the weekends. Now I can let him chase the dog around the yard while I garden. It's lovely!”

Harry reached over and squeezed her hand. “I'm glad you like it here.” He stood up. “Draco, give her your insta-owl so that she can message us if she gets the call.”

Draco summoned the magic parchment from his carryall and handed it to Harry. Harry walked around the table and set it down in front of Siobhan. “This is really simple to use. When you want to message me, you just write my name and the message you want to send – with your finger – and it'll go right to me.” He demonstrated, summoning his insta-owl out of his pouch when the test message made it hoot loudly.

“That's brilliant!” Siobhan burst out in admiration.

“I think so too,” Harry murmured in agreement, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “But we'll be off now. I trust you'll look after Mr. Greene and his son for me?”

“Of course, Harry,” Siobhan assured him, kissing his cheek in return.

Harry nodded at Matt. “If you need anything at all, just tell Shevvie. If it's something she can't do personally, she might be able to persuade Kreacher to do it.”

“Oh, and Siobhan,” Draco added. “The insta-owl has only one flaw, it will hoot – louder and louder – until the message is seen. So, if Chad or Elliot happen to send me a message while I'm gone, please just send them a quick note of explanation and let them know I'll reply to them later.”

“Will do,” she promised.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter, for everything you've done so far,” Matt murmured, shaking Harry's hand.

“Yeah, thank you,” Jack murmured, busy petting Zoë now that he had finished eating. She loved being petted and responded by turning in circles and licking his hand.

A plume of fire announced the return of Adira, who decided that since the house was full of magic and the muggles were allowed to be here, it meant that she could be visible in front of them. She circled the room, chittering happily until she landed on Draco's shoulder and nuzzled his neck.

“Full already, my love?” Draco asked as he stroked her back.

She made her crackling equivalent of a purr and licked his cheek with her soft and snake-like tongue.

“I guess there's nothing to stop us from going to that house,” Harry stated with a smirk, knowing that Draco wasn't chuffed about the prospect.

Grumbling, Draco held out his hand so that Harry could Apparate them to the house – focusing on a visual of a mailbox with the address on it. That way, they'd appear in a relatively safe place – rather than in the steps or wall of the house. A moment later, they were halfway across the country, in Leeds.

A plump and merry woman answered the door when Harry knocked. “Something I can help you with?”

“My name's Harry Potter, and I understand you have a strange room in your house.”

“Oh! Yes, I called a woman named Siobhan Wilkens about two weeks ago at the recommendation of a friend, but she said you were out of the country. Back now, I take it. Come on in.”

Harry and Draco followed her into the kitchen. She stopped and looked them both up and down. Clearly, she liked what she saw.

“Such handsome young men,” she praised with a smile.

Harry chuckled, not surprised that she was studying Draco's face and hair very carefully. “This is my partner, Draco Malfoy.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Draco murmured politely.

“I'm Nancy, and the pleasure's all mine, I assure you,” she said in return before sweeping her hand out to indicate a doorway off to the side. “Well, there it is.”

Harry and Draco walked into the room. “I'm confused,” Harry murmured. “Siobhan said this room was dark and nothing could light it up, but it looks like an ordinary pantry to me.” He picked up a jar of jam. “Ooo! Blackberry! And is this gooseberry?”

Draco chuckled, sighed, and shook his head. “Your thickness sometimes rivals that of Greg. This is a  _ magical _ pantry. Siobhan was right about that at least – it's not sinister, just a room heavily spelled to protect food for a wizarding family. The date on these preserves suggest that the room was last used about a hundred and thirty years ago.”

“Huh...” Harry stated in speculation. “That's odd but brilliant that the magic spells lasted so long.” He cast a levitation spell to carry all the food out of the room.

Nancy tilted her head curiously.

“Nothing too weird in there,” Harry informed her. “Actually, this is all handmade over a century ago. Anything you don't want, I'd be happy to take off your hands. And come to think of it, now would probably be a good time to discuss payment – while my partner is still busy picking apart all the spells in there and seeing which ones need to be deconstructed.”

“Hmm... I think 200 pounds is reasonable,” Nancy murmured. “Provided he makes it so that we can finally knock down that wall like we want. It's the strangest thing! There really shouldn't be a room there at all. We've measured and the space on the other side of the wall is all accounted for. If I didn't want a bigger kitchen, I'd almost be tempted to keep the room, as a conversation piece if nothing else. Could spook all my friends!”

Harry laughed. “I'm sure they'd love it on Halloween. And 200 sounds like a good payment to me.”

“Is that all?” Draco asked with a disappointed sigh. “Very well. And it's done.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at what was now an ordinary wall.

“The door's gone!” Nancy blurted out in surprise.

“It was never there to begin with,” Draco informed her with a shrug.

Astonished, Nancy walked over to her purse and riffled through it. “Well, here's your payment. I have to call my husband and tell him the news!” She walked over to the phone, stopping to gesture at the stuff Harry was still levitating. “Oh, and you can have all of that. I'm not sure I'd ever be brave enough to try any of it anyway.”

With a grin, Harry directed the lot into his pouch. “Thanks!”

Now paid and having no reason to stay, they left before Nancy could realize that she'd like to ask questions they couldn't fully answer about what had happened.

Just outside, Harry heard his insta-owl go off. “Siobhan says that we got a return call and she made an appointment for us at four o'clock. Hmm... that gives us time to go back home and pluck a hair from Rhys – not to mention let me change into some of his clothes.”

“Good thing I keep Polyjuice potion in stock,” Draco murmured, basically congratulating himself on his forethought. And come to think of it, he should probably brew another batch while they were home so that they'd have more on hand in the future.

At two minutes to four, Draco and a disguised Harry walked into the small and dingy office the appointment was booked at. A decently tall man – who was only a little shorter than Draco – with a little pudge around his middle greeted them with a friendly smile. He had brown hair and eyes and was fairly unremarkable in looks. Neither ugly nor handsome.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted them. “I'm Doctor Whomallish and I'll just need to take your vitals and make sure you're more or less healthy before I can approve you for the trial.” He gestured for them to go into the room off to the right in which a chair like in a dentist's office waited. Harry slipped into the chair.

“Don't you need to know my name?” He asked with a puzzled frown.

“Of course, son. I was just getting to that,” Doctor Whomallish said, grabbing a clipboard off the small counter and writing on it. He asked them a bunch of official sounding questions and wrote down the answers. He also took Harry's blood pressure and pricked Harry's finger to test his current blood sugar levels. “This looks good. Did you fast before coming into today?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed with a nod. “I'm only allowed to eat bland food and nothing looked good anyway.”

“Ah. Well, everything looks in order, so I'll just administer the first dose – but before that, I'll need you to look over and sign this consent form.” He handed it to Draco. “And also, there's the small matter of payment. It's a hundred pounds for a bottle that'll last a month. You can of course ask for more when you run out, and I think you'll want to since this drug has been performing really well. But I must warn you, as you can see on the consent form, since this is a standard double blind trial, there's a chance that you'll be in the group that receives a placebo instead. But there's nothing to worry about since it's harmless. Not even I know which person is in which group.” He held up a bottle and shook it. “There's a number on the bottle that our researchers use to keep track of the participants in the trial. When you want more, you just call our number and give them the number on the bottle, and we'll give you more of the same.”

Playing along, Draco signed the consent form and took the bottle – after the so called Doctor took one pill out of it and gave it to Harry to take. He then paid the man the fee, a look at Harry letting him know that he'd definitely be getting paid back; one way or another.

They left the office just long enough to Disillusion themselves and sneak back in. Then they looked around but found nothing except for the basic medical equipment they'd already seen and more bottles of sugar pills. All the bottles had the same identification number on it.

The “doctor” pulled out a mobile and made a call. “Hi honey. Just made another sale. I've got another appointment here in the diabetes clinic in about five minutes, and then one over in the pancreatitis clinic. After that, I'll pick up some take away and a bottle of wine on my way home. Did you find a new place for the heart clinic? You did? Excellent! Don't forget to stock it with that fancy heart rate monitor so I can pretend to know what heart murmurs sound like. That tosser American that made us have to close the old office is probably halfway back home by now! Speaking of, did we agree on where we're going to go look for houses? I'd like to look outside of London but not too far away. Just far enough that we can get a nice house for the money we made. Alright – oh! Sounds like my next appointment just drove up, I'll talk to you later. Love you too, bye.”

Harry felt himself change back as the Polyjuice wore off and clenched his hands into tight fists. The person who entered the office a minute later was a short man who was so wide that he rivaled Uncle Vernon. The man looked highly cheerful.

“Hi again Doc! I'm feeling so much better since I started these drugs! I just know they be approved for use soon.”

The con artist grinned at him. “I'm certain you're right.” He pulled a chart from behind the desk in the main room of the office. “Let me just see which month of the trial you're in... Erm...” He pretended to have difficulty finding the information.

“This is my fourth month.”

“Yes, right, here it is. Oh... I'm afraid that the price has gone up. Those in the fourth month receive stronger doses so that researchers can determine the best dose for the majority of patients. It's now 150 pounds for the bottle.”

The cheerful man sighed, but then shrugged. “That's alright, it's worth it. And I bet I'll feel twice as good from now on.”

“That's the spirit!”

After the transaction was over, Harry and Draco followed him on a Disillusioned broom to an office a few streets over. They watched as he repeated the process on a different victim. This happened to be a couple – an anxious man and his wife – and their young daughter. The girl was about four years old and bounced happily as she hopped over to the patient chair.

“Hiya Doctor Whomallish!”

He ruffled her wildly curly hair. “Hello there Violet. How are you feeling today?”

“My tummy hurts, but I always feel better after seeing you,” she informed him with a smile.

“It's been a rough week,” her mother informed him. “She's been into the hospital a couple of times, but the doctors can't do much for her. They just give her an IV and some pain medication. They always do a search for gallstones, but never find any. They don't know what's causing her Pancreatitis, and so the best they can do is recommend a fairly strict diet.”

“Yes,” the fake doctor murmured in agreement, having taken Violet's blood pressure and listened to her stomach with a stethoscope. “Well, you don't seem to be in such bad shape that I can't administer the medicine. Remember, this is a sharp poke, but then it'll be over.” He turned to her parents. “And just a reminder, it's 500 pounds for this shot.”

They nodded and pulled an envelope out of her purse to give to him. He accepted it with a nod and then pulled a package containing a small syringe and needle out of the drawer. He opened the package and injected the contents into the girl's shoulder – after swabbing it with a cotton dipped in alcohol.

“There you go, all done now.”

“Thanks Doctor! My tummy feels better already!”

With a smile, he turned to her parents again. “Just remember to keep an eye on her. If her symptoms get worse, take her into the hospital right away. Otherwise, I'll see you again next week.”

“See you!” They returned cheerfully, taking their daughter out to their car.

Harry pinched his chin as he wondered what he should do now. Follow the man home seemed like the logical course of action, but would they really learn any more than they already knew? He gasped softly in surprise when he saw Draco end the spell on himself and grab the con man to punch him repeatedly.

“You bloody piece of shit! How  _ dare _ you prey on innocent children?! Crucio!”

The man screamed in agony until Harry gathered up his wits and grabbed Draco's wand hand. “Malfoy!”

Draco let go of his wand and exhaled in aggravation. “You're right. I shouldn't have done that.” He growled and glared at the man who was now whimpering on the ground, and then kicked him in the stomach for good measure. “What was in that syringe?”

“Just a saline solution!” The man gasped out so that Draco wouldn't have a reason to hurt him again.

Draco gave Harry a questioning look.

“That's harmless – sort of a salt pill rather than a sugar pill.”

With a nod of understanding, Draco grabbed the man and hauled him to his feet. “You're going to tell me where you're keeping the quarter million American dollars you scammed out of Mr. Greene or I'm going to slam your head against this desk until you do.”

“It's in a safe in my flat!”

“Take us there!” Draco commanded in no uncertain terms as he let the man fall back to the floor.

Harry ended the Disillusionment spell on himself and grabbed Draco by the arm. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing this,” Draco vowed with a deadly glint in his eye. “This man will  _ never _ be able to prey on children ever again!”

Harry bit his lip. “As much as I want to stop him, I can't let you hurt him – or do anything that might make him inexplicably disappear.”

“I was thinking a strong Obliviate and a permanent stay in the Janus Thickey ward,” Draco murmured, quite reasonably in his opinion.

“No,” Harry stated firmly. “We'll recover the money like we said we would, and then we'll turn him in. I'm sure we can call in a favor from Kingsley –  _ if _ the muggle police can't find enough evidence to lock him up.”

Looking like he was trembling with fury, Draco turned and paced the room in agitation as Harry helped the fake doctor to his feet and gave him a very serious look. “Make no mistake, I'm about as brassed off as Malfoy, so if you don't cooperate, I might be persuaded to look the other way while he vents his ire on you.”

Clutching his head, the man nodded in understanding. “Anything, just don't let him point that pain stick at me again!”

Harry held up Draco's wand and watched the man try not to flinch or cower away. “Lead the way.”

Walking stiffly and clutching his stomach, he led Harry and Draco to a dingy flat a few blocks over. Apparently the con man and his girlfriend (or wife, or boyfriend for that matter), had stuck to the neighborhoods they knew fairly well. Harry prudently cast a shield charm on them as they entered the flat, just in case there was a secret knock or something that would alert the other person to trouble if not performed.

“Honey, is that you?” A woman called out from another room. “I didn't expect you back for another twenty or thirty minutes!”

“Stay where you are, Shazzer. I'll be there in a minute.” With his voice as rough as it was, it was no surprise that Shazzer didn't listen.

“What's wrong, you sou –!” She ended in a gasp as she entered the room and found Harry and Draco standing there with fiercely determined expressions. Her eyes widened in recognition. “Blimey! It's Harry Potter! Oh fuck! We're buggered, aren't we?”

“How do you know this bloke?” Her boyfriend asked suspiciously.

“He's a famous hero,” Shazzer answered. “I've seen him in the papers.”

“Which papers?” 

“Nevermind that. What's going on?” Shazzer wondered, eyeing the wand in Harry's hand – which was still Draco's.

“We're just here to take back the quarter million dollars you scammed out of Matt Greene,” Harry informed her. “So long as you cooperate, we'll leave you in peace.”

Shazzer let out a heavy sigh. “It's not that simple. First of all, he's actually been sending us the money in the mail for the most part – during the course of months. So we don't have that part here. The only thing we have is the hundred thousand he brought us in a briefcase last weekend – since we haven't quite figured out how to discretely change that into pounds. Can't exactly show up at the bank with this much American money without having to explain how we got it.” She gestured to a safe in the wall that would have been covered by a picture, but she'd apparently been in the process of counting the money when they arrived. “The rest of what we have is on the kitchen table.”

Harry pointed to the small fireplace. “Are you connected?”

She sighed and hung her head. “I thought you said you'd leave us in peace.”

“Well, relative peace. I'm not going to harm you, but I can't just let you keep doing this either.” He handed the wand back to Draco. “Keep an eye on them.”

“Of course,” Draco stated with a tone like he thought Harry was stupid for stating the obvious. He then inclined his head at Shazzer. “I recognize you. You were two years above me in Slytherin.”

“Draco Malfoy,” Shazzer acknowledged. “What are you doing working  _ with _ the bloody golden boy?”

“None of your business,” Draco told her off haughtily. “Just keep in mind that I was taught the fine art of torture from not just the Carrows, but also my insane aunt and the Dark Lord himself. Step just one toe out of line and you won't like the consequences.”

Shazzer immediately stopped trying to subtly grab her wand from up her sleeve. She held her hands up again. “So... how did you find us? I cast spells so that we wouldn't attract undue attention. We've also been pretty careful to avoid capture so far.”

“Not that careful,” Draco said with a harrumph as Harry held a brief conversation with Robards via the floo. It was agreed that since a witch was involved, the matter was definitely the jurisdiction of the Ministry.

Shazzer glared at Draco. “You know, those placebos we sold weren't  _ all _ useless. I actually spelled them with minor healing spells. They  _ couldn't _ cure cancer or heart disease, but they did help. You think we were running a bad scam, but we were just doing what little we could.”

Draco tilted his head to the side and gave a slight nod. “I respect that – as a fellow Slytherin. However, from the little I saw today, you were far more concerned with making money than helping people.”

Finished with his conversation, Harry stood up straight and summoned the briefcase and all the money the couple hadn't managed to launder yet. He didn't even bother to speak. A moment later, Robards Apparated into the flat (causing the fake doctor to gasp in astonishment) with two Aurors – one of which was Anthony Goldstein.

“Potter,” Robards greeted.

Harry held up the briefcase. “This is part of the money we were hired to recover. I'll sign whatever you need me to in order to testify that I took it, but I  _ am _ going to return it to its rightful owner.”

Robards nodded a bit reluctantly. “Hopefully there'll be enough other evidence here to give us something to work with.”

“What's going on here?!” The con man demanded with wide eyes. He was staring at the new men in shock.

“He doesn't know?” Harry asked Shazzer curiously. 

Shazzer shook her head. “I wasn't going to break the Statute of Secrecy until I knew he wanted to marry me and have kids.”

Draco gave her a look of distaste. “Next time, if you must choose a muggle, pick one that is worthy of a Slytherin, and not a bottom feeder like this man.”

Shazzer looked like her temper was just set on fire. “Bobby's a good man, you pureblooded snob!”

“I just watched him inject a little girl with salt water in order to make 500 pounds!” Draco roared angrily. “You can't get much lower than that!”

“That's rich, coming from you! You're parents cozied up to the bloody Dark Lord!”

Draco shrugged. “Yes, they did. But notice how I'm working with Harry Potter now. You  _ can _ choose to be better than what's expected of you.”

In her anger, Shazzer grabbed her wand with lightning quick reflexes and pointed it at Draco. “Diffindo!” She shouted, trying to cast a cutting hex on his neck, but Harry was a step ahead of her, yanking Draco behind him and using his own body to block the hex – which resulted in a gash on his shoulder.

If looks could cause harm, the glare Draco sent Shazzer would have set the whole flat on fire. He pointed his wand at her again. “You'll  _ pay _ for that...”

Harry forced him to lower his wand. “It's not worth hexing her in front of the Head Auror.”

Draco pierced him with his furious gaze. “She hexed you!”

“She was trying to hex you,” Harry pointed out.

“That's beside the point, moron! You're  _ bleeding _ !” Draco ground out.

“So cast a healing charm,” Harry pointed out, smacking Draco upside the back of the head, for once.

Draco harrumphed but capitulated, casting a nice healing charm on Harry's wound.

Now that the mini crisis was over, Robards directed his Aurors to take the couple into custody and search the flat for evidence. Almost right away, they found several boxes of sugar pills and about a dozen syringes that were charmed with minor healing spells. This was enough to convict them of peddling magic to muggles at the very least, so Harry felt confident that justice would be carried out in the long run.

No longer needed, he tugged on Draco's hand. “Come on, Malfoy. Let's bring this to Greene before anything else happens.”

Still looking like he'd quite like to murder both Shazzer and Bobby, Draco nodded in agreement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that generally, drug research and the like *pays* and not charges, but remember this is a scam and desperate people fell for it despite it being rather transparent IMO.


	16. In Which a Girl Has a Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Rhys tell Harry and Draco about two sisters they met in the park - one of which had a gun.

 

“Harry!” Rhys cried out joyously as if he hadn't seen Harry in much longer than a single night.

“Morning Rhys,” Harry greeted before covering his mouth to stifle a sleepy yawn.

“Why're you so tired?” Rhys wondered since it was after 11 and the energetic boy had been up for hours already.

“Well, because Malfoy spent the night and we were up very late, erm, talking,” Harry explained, trying not to blush.

Draco pretended to cough into his fist in order to cover up a laugh.

Rhys gave him a look that said:  _ I'm not stupid, you know. _

Jack laughed and shook his head. “I'd've won a bet had there been anyone willing to bet the other side.”

“What?” Harry asked in confusion.

Siobhan ruffled his messy hair. “He's saying that he bet you'd have Draco spend the night and none of us thought he was wrong in order to make an official bet with.”

“Oh...” Harry murmured in understanding, feeling even more embarrassed.

Jack shrugged and changed the subject. “I took Rhys to a park a few blocks from here. It's so weird that I knew nothing at all about magic until you brought us to your house, and it took me most of yesterday to wrap my head around it, and then I leave the house and the rest of the world is ordinary and magic free.”

“Not the entire world, but I understand what you mean,” Harry murmured.

“We met these girls at the park,” Rhys announced excitedly. “Louise is nine and kind of quiet and sad. I felt like I should try to cheer her up, but she didn't want to be cheered up – at least not until Zoë started licking her hand. Her older sister was – I dunno. Twelve? Anyway, she was about to tell me off when Louise giggled quietly and petted Zoë, so she harrumphed and left us alone.”

“Then Rose – that's the older sister – heard me talking to Rhys, and noticed immediately that I was American, so she sat down to talk to me,” Jack added. Then he fiddled with his fork, pushing food around on his plate. “She wanted to know if I'd ever shot a gun because 'everyone knows' that Americans can have guns.”

“Have you?” Harry asked curiously.

“Well, yeah,” Jack replied with a nod – as did Matt.

“I take him out hunting from time to time. It has to be when he is calm and he has to wear very good ear muffs to prevent the loudness from shocking him and effecting his heart, but Jack is pretty good at shooting small game,” Matt explained.

Draco smiled with just a tiny hint of fondness. “If you like to hunt but guns aren't necessarily safe for your heart, you should try an owl. Our family breeds eagle owls, and while they're not quite as popular as hawks and falcons, they can be trained to hunt. In fact, they're really good at it. I'll bring you by the Manor today and see if you happen to bond with any of our owls. That way, you can hunt small game without the loud noise.”

Harry gave Draco a strange look that made Draco bristle defensively.

“ _ What _ ?”

Harry shook his head and shrugged. “I just wouldn't have expected that of you.”

Draco rolled his eyes even as Jack grinned. “That sounds like fun!”

In higher spirits, Jack ate a few bites of his food before his father gave him a curious look. “So what did you tell this girl you met?”

“Well I told her that you've taken me hunting and I've used a shotgun,” Jack said, then he frowned. “So she asked me if I could teach her how to shoot. At first I thought she was just curious and wanting to play cops and robbers or something, but when I pointed out that I couldn't teach her because I didn't have a gun, she pulled one out of her bag and tried to hand it to me. I wouldn't touch it,” he hastily reassured his father.

“Why did she have a gun?” Harry asked with a deeply concerned frown.

Jack focused on his plate and wouldn't look Harry in the eye. “Well, I sort of promised I wouldn't say, but if it's true, then it's the sort of thing that  _ shouldn't _ be kept a secret.” He sighed morosely. “She said that her step father is a very bad man and that he does things to her. She mostly just suffers and doesn't say anything, but recently, he's started touching Louise and she knows what he'll do if he isn't stopped. So she plans to murder him before he can, uh...” he fell silent, still not looking at any of them. Then he cleared his throat. “So I told her how to unload the gun, and once it was unloaded, I pointed at the safety and told her how to disengage it. Plus tips on aiming and advice on hunting in general.”

There was a moment of heavy silence.

“Do you think she's still at the park?” Harry asked with a very serious expression.

Jack shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe.”

Harry stood up. “Come on. Rhys, you're staying here, so don't even ask.”

Draco stood up and put a hand on Harry's arm. “What are you planning to do?”

“I'm planning to see if I can stop a girl from becoming a murderer,” Harry stated rather intensely.

“I mean  _ aside _ from that,” Draco sneered, tempted to roll his eyes again. “It's not as though taking the gun from her will solve her problems.”

“So you think I should just let a 12 year old girl kill her pedo father?” Harry growled.

Draco shrugged. “I'm saying that unless you have a better plan, it might be best to just let her get on with it. She's young enough that unless muggle law is completely insane, she'd be able to explain that it was in defense of herself and her sister, and probably not even receive much for punishment.”

Harry shook his head. “I may not know exactly what I can do yet, but I have to do something.”

Draco nodded, sighing. “I knew you were going to say that. You just can't stop yourself from meddling in everything.”

Harry gave Draco a pointed look. “I saw how you reacted when you found out that fake Doctor – Bobby – was taking advantage of a little girl's illness. I  _ know _ you're not as heartless as you want everyone to think you are.”

Draco pressed his lips together, then shrugged. “Which is why I continue to go with you on these foolish adventures.” He gestured toward the door. “Shall we go?”

Harry nodded. “Jack, please lead the way. And don't worry, Mr. Greene. We'll take every precaution to ensure that your son is not in any danger. If she draws the gun – or even puts her hand in her bag, we'll send him to safety.”

Matt nodded slowly, trusting Harry because Harry had proven trustworthy.

After a moment's thought, Harry patted his leg. “Zoe, come on luv. We might need you to keep the girls calm.”

Zoë was eager to go for a walk, despite having returned from one relatively recently. Harry, Draco, Jack, and Zoë set out a moment later, walking to the park in silence until Draco frowned grimly and asked the question weighing heavily on his mind.”

“Did that girl with the gun actually mention anything in specific that's been done to her?”

Jack shrugged. “She made references to things like being hit and... rape. I mean she never said them directly, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that she didn't mean hugs when she said that he touched them.”

Draco didn't say anything, but the soft and almost never ending growl that came from him made it clear that he wasn't happy in the slightest and might even be plotting something terrible. After recent events, Harry was sort of afraid of what Draco might do to this abusive bastard that deserved to be beaten to death. Also, Harry was sort of afraid of what  _ he _ might do, since he had once cast the Cruciatus Curse on Amycus Carrow for simply spitting at McGonagall. This man might actually prefer a gunshot wound to the chest.

When they reached the park, Jack subtly pointed to Rose and Louise – who were the only ones in the park at the moment. Both girls were rather quiet and withdrawn, swinging rather listlessly on the swing set. They looked up at Jack and smiled a bit wanly when they saw Zoë.

“Back again already?” Rose asked, happy that Zoë immediately ran over to Louise – which made the younger girl happy ish.

Jack sat down next to her. “This is my friend Harry. He's Zoë's owner, and that's his boyfriend Draco.”

“Oi!” Harry protested with a blush. “We're not boyfriends, just, erm...”

“Lovers?” Draco suggested, looking rather intensely interested in the answer.

“I was going to say friends with benefits, but I like the sound of lovers better,” Harry replied with a soft smile.

“What's the difference between lovers and boyfriends?” Jack asked curiously.

“Well, boyfriends are exclusive, I suppose,” Harry answered, his voice soft in thought as he looked toward the sky. “And we've only been together on the occasion that there was no one else around that interested us.”

Rose sort of squinted at them. “So why not just be boyfriends who have permission to play around with others?”

Harry was blushing again and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. “That doesn't sound right.”

“Why not?” Rose wondered. “Our mother and real father were like that before he died a couple of years ago. Not only did they both have permission to play – and they were  _ so _ in love, it definitely wasn't a marriage of convenience – but my mother also worked as a prostitute when they needed extra income. She still does, if I'm honest, only now she has to do it all the time. Her new husband expects her to earn a certain amount each week.”

Draco sat down next to her. “Can I tell you something I've never told anyone?”

“I guess, if you want to,” Rose murmured with a puzzled frown.

Draco cast a Muffliato around them so that only she would hear what he had to say. Then he took a deep breath. “A couple of years ago, my parents allowed a man to stay with us that was a very bad man. You can think of him like a mob boss, if you'd like. He had very few morals and a lot of minions who would do his evil bidding. He himself never directly harmed me, but his minions were blood thirsty beasts, and a couple of them used to come into my room at night and... hurt me. Do you know what I'm talking about?”

Rose pressed her lips together and nodded. “My step father does the same thing. He waits until I'm sleeping, and then...” she stopped and rubbed impatiently at her eyes.

Draco looked at his hands. “The difference between you and me is that I could have gone to my parents and told them, and they'd have killed those men. They'd have killed them and buried them in our back garden, and no one would have ever known what happened to them. Only I didn't tell them because I was ashamed. I thought I'd done something wrong and that it was my fault. I thought that if I admitted what had happened to anyone, it would be like branding myself with a sign telling the whole world that I was bad and...”

Rose nodded in understanding.

“I get the feeling that it's not the same for you,” Draco continued, looking at her again. “That even if you told someone, that there's nothing anyone could do to help you.”

“Exactly,” Rose confirmed with a grim expression. “And I think I could handle it forever. For the most part, if I just hold still and wait until he's done, it doesn't hurt too bad. And I'm pretty sure he wears condoms so that I won't get pregnant. I'm really strong by now and can handle just about anything, but I can't...” she shook her head and wiped at her eyes again. “I can't bear the thought of him hurting my sister!”

“Would you let us help you?” Draco asked, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“How can you help us?!” Rose burst out angrily.

“Harry lives in a place that the man married to your mother would never be able to find. We could bring you there and you'd both be safe,” Draco informed her.

Rose considered this for a moment before shaking her head. “No. If we did that, he'd just hurt our mother. He beats on her too, you know?” She reached over toward her bag. “The only way he'll ever stop is if someone stops him, and that's what I plan to do.” She opened her bag and showed him the gun inside.

Draco pressed his lips together. Then he sighed. “You won't be able to do it. At least,  _ I _ wasn't able to do it. That man I was talking about – the mob boss – he ordered me to kill someone, and even though I was able to plan out several ways to do so, I just couldn't go through with it. When it comes right down to it, taking a life is the hardest thing to do.”

“But he deserves it!” Rose protested hotly. “And you should understand that better than anyone! You have one of those wand thingies and you cast some sort of spell around us. I don't know what, but I suspect it's to keep others from hearing us talk. My step father does things like that! He has an entire business in which he casts curses on people for money! Either someone comes to him asking him to curse someone they don't like, or he picks a posh mark and casts a curse on them so that he can make them pay to have it removed!”

“Has anyone ever died from his curses?” Draco asked intensely.

She nodded. “I couldn't tell you names, but word comes in from time to time that the cursed person died, and usually, the person who wanted the curse has to pay a little bit extra as a bonus for getting rid of their problem permanently.”

Nodding in understanding, Draco ended the privacy spell. “Call Robards, Potter. We have something that's definitely  _ their _ problem.”

“How so?” Harry asked curiously. He was  _ dying _ to know what Draco had told her that he'd never told anyone else, but was resigned to probably never knowing.

“It seems her step father is a wizard who's cursing muggles for personal gain,” Draco explained.

“Ah, yes, definitely their problem,” Harry agreed. He pulled out his wand and looked around, but the Notice Me Not Ward he'd cast was doing its job of making this whole park seem uninteresting to muggles. “Expecto Patronum!” 

A gossamer silvery stag burst from his wand and ran around the park twice before coming to a stop in front of him. It looked like it was wondering why he had called it since there was no discernible danger. Harry tried to pet it, but there wasn't really anything to pet.

“Tell Gawain Robards; So sorry to bother you, but I've just come across something that needs an Auror. Would you please come – or send a team of Aurors – to meet with me?” He gave the coordinates to the park he was in. “And don't worry, I've set up a Notice Me Not Ward, so muggles won't notice if you Apparate in.”

The stag nodded in understanding and ran off in the direction of the Ministry of Magic. Harry rubbed a hand up and down Draco's arm. This made Draco narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“Alright there, Malfoy?”

Draco tilted his head side to side. “Better than expected.”

“What did you say to her?” Harry wondered in a soft and supportive tone of voice.

“Maybe I'll tell you someday,” Draco evaded with a shrug.

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded in reluctant acceptance. “Alright...”

Just then, Robards and a pair of Aurors popped into the park, making Rose and Louise gasp. They knew about magic – since their step father often performed it in front of them, but they'd never seen anyone just appear (or disappear) like that. Draco walked over and glared lightly at Anthony.

“Goldstein, I know you don't like me, but I hope you'll set your feelings aside long enough to help,” he then explained the situation as much as he could to the group of Aurors. He'd also cast a spell on the area to prevent the girls from sneaking off if they got scared or overwhelmed.

Robards sighed heavily. “I'd heard rumors of a witch or wizard dealing in underground curses, but I haven't been able to track him down yet.” He turned to talk to Rose directly. “This is a very serious matter. The crime of selling curses on and to non magical folk carries a sentence of a few years in our special prison. Also, if you are willing to give us a statement of every bad thing he did to you, it'll add to the time he's locked up. He'll never be able to hurt you again.”

Rose had her lips pressed together and obviously couldn't decide whether to trust them or not. She looked at her sister and decided that the risk was worth it if it meant protecting the younger girl from harm. She nodded and stared at her feet.

“I'll tell you, but only if Draco is with me,” she murmured.

Draco slipped his hand into hers. “I won't leave your side.”

Harry cleared his throat. “And since I'm pretty sure the Ministry doesn't have the infrastructure in place to care for children in situations like these, Rose and Louise can stay in my house until their mother receives proper help. Although I'm probably going to need someone in the Ministry to liaison with the muggle government on that bit.”

Robards nodded in understanding and agreement. “Let me go arrest this rogue wizard before anything else. Rose, can you please tell me where you live?”

It took Rose a moment to remind herself that she was going to let these strangers help her. Then she pointed and gave directions, along with her address. At that point, Louise spoke up for the first time.

“And please be careful! Robbie's got spells or something that let him know when people come near our flat. He also has curses – I think – that hurt people who don't have permission to visit.”

Robards nodded and gave her a tiny smile. “That's only to be expected, but thank you very much for reminding us.” He ruffled her hair affectionately. “You're being very brave, and I know how scared you must feel. Stay here with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They'll make sure that you both stay safe and that no one can hurt you.”

Draco held up a hand asking Robards to wait a moment. Then he held out a hand to Rose expectantly. “You're not going to need it, and so it's best if you give it to the authorities now.”

Rose frowned a bit petulantly before sighing. She grabbed her bag and pulled out the gun. “Do I  _ have _ to give it to you?”

Robards frowned sternly at her. “Where did you  _ get _ it?”

“I stole it from a gangster down the street...” she muttered, trying to be honest without letting them actually hear the answer.

“Ah, well, it's not yours and you shouldn't have it, so yes, you have to give it to us,” Robards informed her firmly, holding out his hand.

But Rose didn't trust him yet, so she handed it to Draco. Draco squeezed her hand encouragingly and gave her a small smile. “Thank you.” He then handed the gun to Robards.

Robards nodded his head at Draco respectfully. “You're a better man that I thought, Malfoy.”

Draco shrugged and sort of shook his head, as if disagreeing.

“Stay here,” Robards ordered again, gesturing for his men to head over toward the indicated flat.

Nearly two hours passed before they heard anything. During this time, Harry sent a Patronus to Shevvie to let her and Matt know that they were all still very much safe and doing fine. A bit bored actually.

Finally, Robards returned to the park. He was rubbing his shoulder, which looked like it had a gash on it that had been healed but must still itch or ache. His robes looked a little battered, but he was definitely triumphant.

“Robbie Mulciber put up a dirty fight – as only to be expected from the grandson of one of the Dark Lord's original Death Eaters. It's not clear yet if he's the son of the one we currently have in Azkaban – or the nephew. Either way, there'll be a family reunion shortly,” he informed them. His proud grin faded. “We had to take Maggie Mulciber into custody for her own protection during the raid, and we're passing her along into the muggle system to be sorted out. She was freshly beaten and drugged up, so it'll be a few days before they think about releasing her from the special hospital she's being sent to. I gave them your name and number, Harry, so you're free to take Rose and Louise home with you. I also made it clear that they needn't bother trying to arrange foster care for the girls because we'd already done that, so you shouldn't have any problems with the muggle system. But if you do, just let me know and I'll have it sorted.”

“Thank you,” Harry stated in genuine gratitude. “It means a lot to me knowing that there's one less bad Wizard out there ruining things for the rest of us.”

Robards gave him a small smile. “It means a lot to me too, which is why I do this job.” He turned to smile at the girls. “I have a lot of things I need to do, so you'll have some time to get settled in at Potter's house and get a good meal in you. But then I'll be sending a pair of Aurors to come take your statements. Try not to worry, they're only going to ask about the bad things your step father did. Nothing you say will get you or your mother in any sort of trouble, so please be as honest as possible. Maybe write a list so that you don't have to worry about forgetting anything.”

Rose looked him up and down, as if not quite able to believe he was real. “I never knew there were policemen specially for bad men with magic.”

Robards pressed his lips together in thought for a moment. “Well... maybe now that we have Harry as our sort of unofficial liaison between our kind and non magical folk,  _ maybe _ we'll learn about rogue bad magic users sooner and save little girls like you  _ before _ things get so bad.”

“Maybe,” Rose murmured in not quite believing agreement.

Robards smiled at her patiently. “You girls go on now. You look like you'd love a good bit of nosh.”

They both nodded. Rose still had her hand in Draco's and refused to let go, so he simply led her toward Grimmauld Place. Harry held his hand out to Louise with a gentle and encouraging smile. After a moment of wariness, Louise took it, taking Zoë's leash in her other hand and happily walking the dog back to her home.

 

***

 

After the day they'd had, both Jack and Draco  _ needed _ a bit of soothing time in the country. Draco brought Jack to their family owlry and let him pet them all until one of the young adult owls seemed to take to him. At that point, Draco picked up his own eagle owl – Melissande – and led Jack and the newly bonded young male owl out into the fields to the north of Malfoy Manor.

An hour later, boy and owl not only seemed to work well together, but being a very intelligent bird used to not only delivering wizard messages and packages but also being handled for hunting purposes, the owl was doing well hunting for Jack as expected. Jack whooped in triumph when his owl caught a plump pheasant. He petted and cooed at his owl happily.

“I love him! I think I'm going to call him Harry!”

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted. “ _ Please _ don't tell Harry that!”

Jack looked a little upset. “You think he'll be angry that I want to name my owl after him?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I think he'll be embarrassed. Also, he'll probably try to talk you into a different name. Tell him that I already named the owl Malfoy or something like that, Merlin maybe. Then when you get home, you can call him Harry all you like.”

Jack smiled at him. “You really like Harry, don't you?”

Draco pursed his lips and glared lightly. “Don't you  _ dare _ ever tell Harry that!”

“Why not?” Jack wondered with a curious frown.

“Because the two of us are more likely to fight than get along. It doesn't matter if I like him, he'll never like me back. You heard him earlier, he couldn't deny your erroneous assumption of us being boyfriends fast enough,” Draco muttered.

Jack shook his head as if Draco was being silly. “I saw the way he looked at you when you weren't looking at him. He  _ likes _ you – like a lot! I think he might actually be afraid that you don't like him, and since you tend to look blank and somewhat polite – or snarling and growly – when you're looking at him, I can see why he'd think that.”

Draco hid a small smile by kissing Melissande on the head and sending her back to the owlry. Then he held his arm out so that Adira could land on it. “Come on, now that my dragon is full, it's time I brought you back to your father.”

“Alright, hopefully Rhys and Shevvie will have made Rose and Louise feel better by now. It's almost impossible to  _ not _ like them and feel better when they're being so cheerful around you,” Jack said with a fond smile, stroking his new pet along his spine.

They Apparated back into the drawing room to find that Rhys and the girls were all giggling at a joke that had even the adults smiling and chuckling.

“Dad look!” Jack cried out excitedly. “I have my very own owl! And he caught a pheasant for me, so we'll be able to pluck it and have it for dinner after we get home. Draco put it into stasis for me so that it won't rot before we can get to it.”

“That's great, son,” Matt murmured, mostly honestly. He wasn't sure how having an owl as a pet would work – not to mention getting permission to bring it back to America – but he was willing to give it a shot.

Draco seemed to read his mind. “Not to worry, Potter has a good friend who could give him permission to send the owl to you if necessary, but all it'll probably take is simply ordering a Portkey to deliver the owl to you when you get home. We have to go to America soon for a wedding anyway. Our friend Robert Ward is marrying his boyfriend.”

Jack tilted his head to the side in confusion. “They're getting married in  _ America _ ?”

“Not legally,” Harry replied with a heavy sigh. “But they're having a wedding ceremony anyway to symbolize their commitment to each other.” He then frowned in thought for a moment. “And you know, I could probably just order a Portkey for the two of you and send you home  _ with _ your owl. What did you name him anyway?”

Jack gave Draco a secretive smile. “Draco named him Merlin a while ago.”

“That's good!” Harry sighed in relief. “I don't know why, but I was more than a little afraid that you were going to name him after me because I stopped your father from killing himself.”

Jack tried to look completely innocent. “Why would I do that? Also, why wouldn't you like that?”

Harry laughed. “If  _ everyone _ I've ever saved named something after me, the world would suddenly be filled with Harrys!”

“Or Potters,” Draco added with a smirk.

“That actually wouldn't be so bad – an owl named Potter seems interesting for some reason,” Harry admitted with a shrug. He then squinted at Draco curiously. “Are you hungry? You and Jack were gone during dinner so you missed it. Or are you planning to go home and eat there?”

“I was actually planning to go home. My mother wants me to have breakfast with her tomorrow before taking her shopping,” Draco explained, mostly telling the truth. His mother  _ did _ want that, she just hadn't insisted on it and Draco wasn't sure he really wanted to go.

“Oh... so no golf tomorrow?” Harry asked in disappointment.

“Well at least not in the morning. I'll insta-owl you when we get back,” Draco promised.

“Alright, erm... come here a minute before you leave,” Harry insisted, taking Draco by the hand and dragging him out of the room. When they were alone and unlikely to be overheard, Harry chuckled nervously. “With the way Jack assumed that we were boyfriends, I didn't want to do this in front of them and confuse them even more.” He gave Draco a series of small kisses that started out soft and fairly innocent, but got rather heated after the first dozen or so.

“Mmm...” Draco moaned, pulling back. He looked fixedly at a portrait of a sleek black cat with a white chest and paws that was quite happily grooming his bollocks. The cat seemed mildly interested in them, but not enough to stop what he was doing. “Would it be so bad if we were boyfriends?”

Harry was so surprised that he took an unconscious step back. “What? But...” He frowned and bit his lip in thought. “But you... you need to date and marry a witch, and I'm still planning to possibly marry Ginny some day. How would that work? Us dating, I mean.”

Draco turned to walk away, flustered enough that he thought it might be more prudent to floo rather than Apparate. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Wait!” Harry insisted, literally grabbing him by the arm. “Don't you dare leave just yet!”

Draco glared at the hand on his arm murderously, his eyes slowly traveling up to glare at Harry. “Remove your hand from me,  _ Potter _ , before I remove it for you.”

Exactly the opposite of what he was told to do, Harry pulled Draco into his arms. “No,  _ Malfoy _ , I want to settle this.”

Draco tried to push Harry away, but the scrawny looking man was stronger than he appeared. Harry surprised him into compliance with a possessive kiss. Eventually, they broke apart to stare at each other warily.

“I'm  _ not _ saying no,” Harry whispered, feeling strangely vulnerable. His heart also seemed to be trying to break free from his chest. “I actually sort of think that maybe we  _ have _ been boyfriends for quite some time without realizing it, just...”

Draco turned his head a bit to the right and eyed Harry much more warily than a moment ago. “Just what?”

“Just... Well, I really like the way we've been,” Harry said. “It's been the most fun of my life traveling the world with you and doing whatever we want. What happens if we officially date and we're out to dinner after a job and a pair of gorgeous women sit on our laps and promise us a fabulous night?”

Draco pressed his lips together for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe we're meant to be in an open relationship after all, because yes, having random flings with strangers  _ is _ rather fun. It's been the most fun of  _ my _ life that I've been able to share all these crazy adventures with you. So maybe we should just keep doing what we've been doing, but call it what it really is.”

“Dating?” Harry asked with interest.

Draco nodded. “Exactly.”

Harry kissed him in elation.

“And to answer your question more directly,” Draco added with a small smile. “If we each find a woman we're interested in for the night, perhaps we could try having them together. It sort of turns me on to see you kissing a woman, knowing that you're bloody good at shagging and that not only will you show her a good time, but that she'll more than likely make you feel good too.”

“Oh wow, I thought that was just me!” Harry blurted out. “I keep wanting to watch you shag someone, but haven't had the courage to mention it because I didn't want you to think I was a pervert.”

“Well,  _ boyfriend _ , perhaps I'm in the mood to spend the night after all,” Draco drawled with a flirty smirk.

Grinning, Harry took his hand and practically dragged him up the stairs. As they went, Draco allowing himself a small smug smile, he said: “And you know, Potter, I don't  _ have _ to marry a witch. Yes, my parents would quite like me to and start on my Heir, but if I never get married or have kids, well, maybe it's for the best if my name dies with me.”

Harry stopped abruptly in the hallway outside his bedroom. “Don't say that!” He gave him a swift kiss. “If this mad thing between us works out, we'll  _ definitely _ figure out a way to continue both our names, because I want children someday – which is why I still half plan to marry Ginny. If we don't work out, we can each do what we planned to originally, but if we do, we'll...”

Draco nodded in understanding, kissing Harry as a sort of reward for being willing to think ahead a bit. They finished running into Harry's room, tossed the door shut behind them, and then tore each other's clothes off. The bed seemed too bloody far away, so Draco shoved Harry up against the nearest wall and lifted him enough that Harry could wrap his legs around Draco's waist.

This wasn't enough for Harry, so he shifted his mouth from Draco's to bite his neck and insist: “Inside me! Now! _Now_!”

Rather than waste time telling Harry to be patient for half a second, Draco simply cast the quick prep spells and shifted Harry so that it was easier to penetrate him. Their lips fused together again and refused to be separated. Their shagging was hot and heavy, and ended rather quickly with Harry squirting all over their stomachs with a shrill squeal, provoking Draco to pump him full with a guttural groan.

“Oi! There are kids in this house!” Matt called out from the other side of the door.

“It's _my_ house and the kids can go play in the attic if they don't want to hear such things!” Harry told him off with a light blush.

“Or we can finish the trip to your bed,” Draco suggested in a murmur against his ear, carrying him to the bed to start on the next round.

“Mmm... I love the way you think,” Harry moaned softly. To his surprise, he then had hands down, _the best_ night of his life.

 

***

 

“Draco!”

Harry and Draco both spun around at that joyous cry in order to see who had cried it. They were just in time for Jolie to throw her arms around Draco and give him a tight hug followed by a racy kiss. Not quite expecting to be kissed so suddenly, Draco nevertheless gave as good as he got.

“Hi Jolie,” Harry greeted despite being dead certain she wouldn't notice if her fabulous designer dress caught on fire just then. “What are you doing _here?_ ”

“Harry!!!” Elliot squealed exuberantly before galloping over and glomming onto Harry in a rather bouncy way. “You made it! You're here!”

“Hi Elliot,” Harry greeted. “Of course we made it. We said we were coming, didn't we?”

“Yes but we all thought you might be too busy with a case or something,” Elliot explained, still bouncing and hugging Harry. “And Rob would really like to thank you for introducing us to Jolie! She's our new Chief Financial Officer and is _so good_ with money! We've increased our profits by 5 percent thanks to her and she doesn't try to stop us from researching the most obscure things just because they're unlikely to make a profit! Since she's a no-maj, she _loves_ magic and can't get enough of it! Everything fascinates her and she's just geeky enough to get giddy over even the weirdest things! We all _love_ her! She –”

“Dude! Take a fucking breath!”

“Hi Janice,” Harry greeted in amusement. “Dwayne.”

The two of them took turns giving Harry a hug and a kiss. Janice also groped Harry's arse outrageously, making him chuckle. Dwayne gave Harry a flirty look that was a clear invitation to have fun after the wedding.

Chuckling, Harry turned to indicate Pansy and Blaise, who were watching Draco with shock and amazement. “Since Draco's busy, let me introduce his best friends. This is Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. We thought we'd bring them along since they've never been to America and Draco is fairly certain that Blaise would like to invest in MagTech.”

“Ooo! Ooo! I'll tell Rob! He _loves_ investors!” Elliot turned to Blaise and held out a hand. “Elliot Ward! Do you have an Instant Owl? Here! Have an Instant Owl! Do you have a light-saber? Here, have a light-saber! Do you have –”

“Dude! Before you give away your entire damn company, show me where the fucking coffee is!” Janice ordered.

“Right! Coffee! Let's go get coffee!” Elliot hopped, skipped, _and_ jumped as he beckoned Janice to follow him. “We got a new type! It's not only fair trade but it's got a hint of cacao beans in it! It's _fabulous!_ ”

“I'm not sure that man _should_ have any coffee,” Blaise remarked as he held up the handle Elliot thrust in his hand. Pansy was already busy trying to learn everything she could about the Instant Owl.

“Actually, Elliot calms down quite a lot once he's had some coffee,” Harry explained with a soft laugh. “Janice was probably trying to help us out by distracting him and getting some coffee in him.”

“Plus, if Janice doesn't get coffee in her regularly, she turns into a nasty beast,” Dwayne added.

“Draco darling,” Pansy stated with a tone of venom dripping in honey that made him freeze slightly. “Are you planning to shag that bint right here on the ground?”

“If he does, it'll make for some excellent pre-wedding entertainment. Hello, Robert Ward. My brother babbled something at me as he cantered by about possible investors.”

This actually caught Jolie's attention, now that Pansy's pointed question had pulled her mostly back to Earth. “Investors?! We _love_ investors!”

“Yes we do,” Rob agreed with a chuckle as he and Harry exchanged a small hug.

“Hi again, Jolie,” Harry murmured with an amused smile. “These are Draco's best friends – Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Blaise would probably like to invest in MagTech.”

“Harry! You're here too!” Jolie exclaimed happily before giving him a hug and a quick kiss.

“Nice to see you again,” Harry informed her, still rather amused. “How's Leah doing?”

Jolie's whole demeanor changed and she rolled her head around her shoulders in exasperation. “Ugh! Don't even get me started! She broke out of rehab the first moment she could and hooked up with a sleezebag pimp! He's got her strung out on drugs and turning at least a hundred tricks a week! I had to wash my hands of her since there's nothing I can do – short of having her killed and put out of her misery!”

“That's sad,” Harry murmured in sympathy, once again glad that he'd made the decision to side with Joshua's father.

“Called it,” Draco stated smugly.

Just then, a man shouted across the yard. “Hey! Prissy British dude!”

“ _What did you call me?!”_ Draco roared in deep offense.

“I've had a ton of practice since the last time you were here, and there's _no way_ you'll be able to beat me now!”

With a haughty harrumph, Draco summoned his light-saber handle out of his carryall/watch and held it so that his silvery blade burst forth. “We'll see about that!”

“Sweet!” Several others called out happily, summoning their light-sabers too. Draco ran over to join in on what quickly proved to be a general mêlée. More than half the guests entered the battle within a matter of moments.

“Harry!” Kyle and his brother Michael greeted happily as they walked over to the small party consisting of Harry, Rob, Pansy, Blaise, and Jolie.

“Hi Harry,” Regina greeted, giving him a flirty kiss.

“Hey now!” Kyle protested. “You're _my_ girlfriend and do _not_ have permission to play around!”

“You two are dating?” Harry asked in surprise.

Regina grinned at him. “Yeah, after he came back to work cleared of all charges, we got to talking about – hmm, _you_ , actually – and as we talked, we got closer than ever.”

“So I asked her out,” Kyle finished with a loving smile at his girlfriend.

“That's wonderful,” Harry congratulated warmly. “Draco and I are actually dating too.”

“You are?!?!” Jolie blurted out in dismay. “ _Goddamnit!_ I was going to ask him out tonight!!!”

“He looked more than a little ready to say yes – although I'm not sure he would have understood the question,” Rob remarked in amusement.

Elliot drifted back over, clearly having had his coffee. He pointed to the epic battle royale. “Janice joined the fray, and my money's on her.”

Harry shook his head. “Nah, Draco's in there somewhere.”

Elliot shrugged. “My money's still on Janice. She's actually been coming here to play racquetball when she can, so I happen to know she's in excellent shape.”

Pansy looked up from her Instant Owl and frowned. “It's bloody _strange_ to see a good fifty people in formal suits and gowns participating in a _sword fight_.”

“Light-saber battle – and Oh! Sounds like the ceremony's about to start!” Rob said, clearly giddy with excitement. He cast a mild Sonorus on his throat. “Any employee who is not sitting and ready to watch me get married in two minutes or less is going to be fired! If you're not an employee, you'll be evicted from the ceremony _without_ your swag bags!”

This caused a rather frantic stowing of sabers and a near stampede toward the seating area. With a grin, Rob patted Harry's shoulder. Michael was waiting a few steps away with a patient smile.

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go get married.”

“Have fun!” Harry wished him with a happy grin. He waited for Draco to return to his side before trying to find seats.

Draco slipped a hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “When we get married, I want a light-saber battle as part of the after ceremony reception.”

Harry felt his heart twist sharply before leaping into his throat. “When we _what_???”

Draco gave him a look that clearly asked how stupid he was. Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I... I suppose... I suppose we could...” Harry stammered. “Someday.”

Grinning as if he'd just won the House Cup all by himself, Draco kissed him. Hand in hand, they found seats and watched at least one rather brave couple pledge to live their lives together. Unexpectedly, Harry found thoughts of the future running amok in his head. With a surreptitious glance at Draco, he couldn't help but wonder if they had it in them to make a marriage work.

With any luck, they'd find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to end this in a way that tied up all loose ends, but not so much that I *couldn't* add more if I wanted. The problem is that I was so excited about this story that I wrote the first 12 or 13 chapters in about 4 days, and then - I was writing Oi Potter at the same time and it took over my imagination. The last couple of chapters took a bit longer to write because - while I still love this story - every time I'd get an email from Chrissie, I'd drop everything and respond, lol. Thus this story is officially finished... for now. I will probably come back to it when I'm finished with Oi Malfoy - but that's not ending any time soon, lol :-)


End file.
